21 Forever
by StarvingWriterMaeve
Summary: One day in New York City becomes the day of a lifetime as Helga reunites with friends she's been missing for 8 years. But when a celebration gets out of control, can Helga, Gerald, and their new friend Johnny fix it? - Very much like The Hangover at Ch 5
1. 2:00 am to 10:30 am: the life of helga

_**"But you can't be twenty-one forever."**_** (lyric from Punchline, "21 Forever")**

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><p><strong>Twenty-One Forever<br>**

The end of her skin-tight black dress was taught up around her thighs, making it slightly difficult for her to fully wrap her legs around her current lover's upper body. He could sense her struggles between deep kisses, so he quickly rested his knee under her and she smiled gratefully, not that he could tell. She was very dizzy, all the drinks he had bought her clearly were making her _easy_. But he was attractive enough, she reasoned in her mind, so it was okay.

He had first sent her a drink at the bar at ten, after her friends had left her alone to hit up the dance floor. It seemed innocent enough, and she was certain about turning it down, until she got a real look at him. He was model-like with his facial features, very well-defined and strong, with very plump lips. He was almost the definition of perfect. He was wearing a blue small pinstriped button up shirt that made his eyes seem very bright.

She could remember cracking some stupid joke about bars. . .what was the punchline? It didn't really matter. Why was she thinking about this now? Their conversation had been boring; he was boring.

He was too busy to focus on anything besides catching his breath and slowly slipping his fingers under her dress, and the small moan of pleasure she released encouraged him to completely remove her lacy thong. She took this as a sign to slip her hands into his pants, finally removing her fingers from his curly brown hair. His belt undid easily, and her hands teased him for a moment while she toyed with the hemline of his boxer-briefs. He made a sound of protest, as if she was torturing him and he wanted to give in. She smiled and finally reached down to his length and began her usual routine.

Her mind always wandered at this point. She enjoyed feeling the heat between her legs, but sometimes she couldn't help but get so focused on the fact that she'd always forget his name. _What the fuck was his name this time? Andrew? No. . . Jack? No-_her entire body suddenly twitched and the guy smiled. He kissed her, bringing his body even closer. Her still-moving hands and his lower body got slightly crushed, but he paid no attention as he continued on working under her dress. Her thoughts momentarily returned to his name, but she quickly gave that up, it was pointless and she could feel her heart beat picking up.

Her body rocked naturally, back slamming against the door as her hips rocked up and down. She bit her lip to prevent a ridiculously loud cry of passion. It always felt _so fucking good. _

Her body finally shuddered, and then seconds later the man before her shuddered as well, a sign that the two were done. He whispered her name between gasps for oxygen. After blinking back a momentary flash of white, she slowly removed her legs from around his waist, adjusted her dress, wiped her hands clean and smiled. She picked up her sparkling black clutch and fixed her hair.

The man smiled, revealing perfect, white teeth. "That was great, Helga."

But she had already walked out the door.

Helga was back in the dimly lit hallway, trying to get the stench of cigar smoke out of her face. Loud rap music pounded from the speakers hanging above her and she finally reemerged into the strobe lights at a spot behind the dance floor. She pushed her way through the crowded dance floor, dodging the drunk dancers and couples making out against the walls. Eventually she stumbled out into the chilly New York night. It was almost two in the morning. She slipped slightly on the cracks in the sidewalk, cursing the fact that she just _had _to wear four-inch high heels tonight.

Her breath slowly wafted into the air as she sighed, a white cloud slowly disappearing from sight. Helga should've known better than to leave without getting her underwear back on, or her coat for that matter. But she hated having to deal with her hooks up after hooking up.

"Damn it," she hissed between her teeth. Instead of immediately walking back to her apartment, or letting her roommate know where she was, Helga decided to stand under the streetlamp and smoke. She fumbled with her purse and lighter for a few minutes, unable to keep herself steady. Her body was swaying slightly from side to side.

Smoking was a wonderful thing, she decided, as she immediately felt a warmth in her chest as she inhaled the toxic chemicals. Ten minutes later her cigarette was done, so she decided that now was a good time to leave.

This winter in New York City was particularly bone chilling, but lacked snow. Helga had to grit her teeth and bare it though. She kept her thoughts warm, thinking about taking a hot bath when she got home, snuggling deep under her covers and sleeping off the hangover she'd know she'd have tomorrow. Why did she have to order three apple martinis?

_How the fuck am I even standing right now? _she wondered just before the world went even fuzzier. _Fucking alcohol. _

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><p>At nine a.m., Helga's alarm went off, blaring a loud rock song on the radio. Her tongue was covered with remnants of alcohol and ash. She groaned and rolled over, wishing she had died on her walk back home. She really should have hypothermia now or <em>something. <em>Her head was throbbing, and the sound of her roommate's phone ringing felt like jackhammers in her skull. A loud knock made Helga shrink deeper under her covers. Her roommate could get the door.

After listening to the usual exchange, there was a call for her. "Helga! Get your hungover ass out here!" Groaning, Helga forced herself to her feet. The world spun and she stumbled slightly, still in one of her heels, but she managed to open her bedroom door. She realized her dress was very messed up, and probably showing a little too much, but she didn't care at the moment.

Her heart stopped when she saw who was standing in the door way. "Oh God," Helga moaned. She was going to vomit, there was an intense burning in her stomach.

"Hi, Helga," her timid voice was barely audible since all the blood rushed to Helga's ears. Helga stood a few feet back from the door, dumbfounded. How could she forget _today _of all days?

"Hi, Phoebe," Helga smiled and tried to blink the morning haze of sunlight out of her eyes. Her best friend was suddenly so tall, probably inheriting her height from her Mom, if Helga could remember correctly. . . Phoebe's hair was long, falling far past her shoulders, but half of it was held neatly on the back of her head in a bun. She was dressed casually in jeans, sneakers, a long sleeved shirt and a puffy winter coat draped over her arm. She no longer had glasses, instead her eyes were shining brightly behind contacts.

Helga's roommate invited Phoebe in, but Helga was surprised to see a familiar African American boy standing behind her. Her shock quickly faded when she felt uncontrollable laughter bubble up from her stomach. He had a _soul patch. _Thankfully the rest of his hair was buzzed short, and he had grown much taller. And stronger, too. Helga could tell from the way he clenched his fists, his arm muscles flexed tightly in his sweater.

Then once Gerald was inside, Helga was stunned into a comatose state as her eyes set on a familiar sight of blond hair on an oblong shape head. She couldn't even really look at him, her eyes suddenly misted with tears for some unknown reason. _For fuck's sake! _she thought bitterly. Her stomach churned, she felt the bile burning her esophagus. She quickly darted to the bathroom, locking the door and emptying her stomach of the acid and alcohol.

She then turned on the shower, praying that her guests would get the hint that they needed to leave. Helga pressed her ear to the bathroom door, hoping to hear the sound of the door close. Instead, she heard her roommate chattering on about the party Helga went to last night while inviting the boys to turn on the TV.

Helga decided to take her sweet time in the shower, the heat felt great against her frozen skin, throbbing head and her tired body. Forty minutes later Helga stepped out in her robe, quickly making her way back to her bedroom. Once she was dressed in skin-tight skinny jeans (the only jeans she owned really) and a low cut long sleeved shirt she decided that she was decent enough to say hello to everyone. With an internal grunt of protest, Helga moved forwards.

"-And then she disappeared into the back of the club with some guy from my school named Alex. After that happened we decided to leave."

_Alex, _Helga nodded, _yeah, that sounds right_. "You guys are horrible friends," Helga smiled. "What if he raped and killed me?"

"You're strong enough to fight any guy, Helga," her roommate laughed. Phoebe looked slightly horrified. Gerald kept his eyes focused on his feet, running his palms over his head as he shook it back and forth. Helga couldn't even bare to look at Arnold.

"So, who wants to go sightseeing?" Helga flashed a smile and pulled Phoebe to her feet. The two boys reluctantly followed behind. Helga grabbed her clutch off the counter and yelled back to her roommate, "You better be gone when we get back!"

The walk back downstairs was spent in silence as Helga's thoughts raced. When was the last time she'd seen Arnold? _Eighth grade_?

Of course, she had hoped she had gotten over him. Clearly from the way she'd been behaving since high school she had thought she was. She'd been hooking up with random guys since her sophomore year at Franklin High. She'd been in a few relationships, but nothing serious like Gerald and Phoebe. They'd been together since fifth grade!

The elevator suddenly crashed on the lobby floor and Helga tried to keep her thoughts off her past. Her heels clicked on the tiled floor of her apartment lobby, then they quickly muffled as she stepped out onto the concrete. She shivered at the contact of the bitter New York air. Early mornings were always the worst, especially in the winter with a nasty hangover.

"So, Helga," Gerald's deep voice made Helga tense up inside. She could tell a questioning was in order. "Where should we go?"

Helga pursed her lips together and thought for a moment. Obviously they should hit up Times Square and The Empire State Building. Where else? "I hate to be a bitch-"

"No, you don't," Gerald laughed.

Helga continued on, ignoring him, "but I _need_ some breakfast. Aren't you guys hungry? You've been traveling all morning."

Gerald nodded, "I could eat something." Helga pushed the three into a nearby pancake house, half-smiling at the waitress who immediately knew Helga's "usual."

"Frequent customer, I assume?" Gerald smiled as he took Phoebe to their own table. Helga kept her jaw taught as Arnold sat down across from her. Helga kept her eyes away from him, focused on anything but Arnold's disappointed stare.

Three minutes of intense silence made Helga finally cave.

"So, um. . .," Helga coughed to relive some of the awkward tension, "how have you been?"

"Are you asking me or the table?" Helga smirked, rolling her eyes. His voice was deeper than Helga remembered. Finally her sapphire eyes met his green ones. "Hey," Arnold smiled.

Helga took this minute to study him. He was tanned, which she assumed was a good thing since it was the dead of winter, and it was obvious he had matured. He was taller, his shoulders were very broad, and Helga could see the definition of muscle in his arms. _What is it with these guys and tight sweaters? _she wondered absentmindedly before remembering she had to reply.

"So, how's Hillwood been? I bet it's falling apart without me."

Arnold laughed a deep, genuine laugh that made Helga's stomach twist. "I actually wouldn't know. I was only there for a day."

"Oh, right. I almost forgot. Are you still in San Lorenzo?"

His smile grew. "Yeah. It's been really great, but it's nice to just be back in the States, too."

Helga nodded, hoping to continue a conversation about him and not her. "I can imagine. When's the last time you've been home?"

Arnold smiled, "This is the first time I've been able to come back." Helga's jaw dropped before her brows furrowed.

"Then what are you doing in New York? Why don't you want to be back in Hillwood seeing -"

"No one's there anymore. I don't even think the boarding house still stands. A lot's changed since you left."

"It's only been. . ." Helga's voice trailed when she realized it had been almost eight years since she'd left. "_Shit_."

A moment later, their food arrived. It was silent until the waitress disappeared back into the kitchen. Helga took one look at her food and suddenly didn't feel like eating. The knot in her stomach was going to rip through her body if this conversation was going where she thought it was.

"Helga, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she replied with fake-confidence. She knew where this was going.

"Why did you run away?"

And there it was. The million dollar question, being shot to her now, when she was hungover and half-awake, sitting across from the person she'd been avoiding for years.

Helga brought her attention to her short stack of pancakes, intently focused on cutting into them slowly. She kept her eyes down as she replied, "It just seemed like the better option at the time."

Arnold dropped his utensils on the edge of his plate, sitting back against the booth's vinyl cushion, "You were fourteen."

Helga stopped cutting and curled her knife and fork in her fists, "And so were you when you got up and left!"

Arnold's eyes went wide as he watched Helga attempt to curl in on herself.

It suddenly all made sense.

The world was spinning for Helga. Not the drunk-dizzying way, but in the Oh-God-I-Can't-Believe-I-Just-Said-That way. Her body seemed to be buzzing, the heat in her face was reverberating down her entire body. Her eyes couldn't focus on one specific point for long. She bit hard onto her lower lip, mentally cursing herself out for saying that out loud.

It was silent for a minute as Arnold tried to gather his thoughts. "You ran away because of me?"

Helga said it before she could stop herself, "Oh, don't flatter yourself, Football Head. I had thousands of reasons to leave." She started counting on her fingers, "Horrible parents, the fact that _everyone _just absolutely hated me, and of course finding out that Olga was moving back home was just the final push I needed to get the fuck out of there."

Arnold knew she was half-lying. He could remember the day he told her he was moving to San Lorenzo like it was yesterday.

It had been a normal day until Arnold got home from middle school. He received the news from his grandparents, who excitedly agreed to come along with him, leaving the boarders in charge of the house.

Arnold was beyond ecstatic. He was going to see his parents again! After finally making contact through different rescue organizations, he found the location of his parents. Somehow his grandparents had extra money tucked away and decided to rent a plane to take them away. It was planned to arrive tomorrow afternoon.

Arnold invited all of his classmates over, and they wouldn't be arriving for another hour, but the doorbell rang. He heard his grandmother cry, "Eleanor, darling!" before shutting the front door. Arnold quickly ran down the stairs. Helga never came over without a reason. And that reason usually meant she needed to vent. Over the years, Helga learned to accept Arnold's opinions - they were one of the few she actually trusted.

Helga smiled at Gertie before quickly marching up the stairs. Arnold stood frozen at the bottom until he heard his bedroom door slam. Arnold sighed and ran up the steps two at at time until he reached his attic. He knew Helga was probably already on the roof, pacing back and forth.

She always did that when she was upset, coming over fresh from a fight with her parents. Arnold had asked her why she came here instead of going to Phoebe's, and she replied with a sarcastic, "The fresh air helps me think."

Arnold slowly crept through his skylight and waited until Helga began speaking.

She paced for another minute before stopping. She spoke through her grinding teeth, "Olga's moving back home."

_Ah, so it was_ this_ fight again,_ Arnold thought. He had tried giving her advice about it before, but she clearly didn't listen."I don't get why you dislike her so much. She's your big sister!"

"And a bigger pain in the ass. As soon as she gets home Bob's going to act like the greatest father, of course he doesn't know shit about me. And Miriam will try to clean up her act, but who knows how long that lie will last." She forcefully exhaled, her fists clenching and unclenching in rage. Arnold watched her, listening to her curse under her breath. He knew it was best until she was completely calm before speaking again. She sounded as if she was on the brink of tears.

Suddenly, it was quiet, only the sounds of nighttime Hillwood neighborhood traffic carrying in the wind. Helga sighed, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes. "God, this weekend could not get any worse."

Arnold cringed, feeling as if he was kicked in the gut, "Actually-"

Just from the way he looked at her, Helga immediately knew what was happening. Her heart dropped until she couldn't feel it beating in her body. "No, Arnold. Don't tell me -" Tears rushed to her eyes. Helga's heart shattered in her chest. He had been talking about it for years and now. . .

"I'm sorry, Helga."

That did it for her. She completely broke down. "You can't leave," she sobbed. She no longer cared about her tough-bully appearance. She didn't care that she was bawling her eyes out into Arnold's chest. She wound her arms tightly around him, whispering in a voice she thought that only she could hear, "You can't leave me now when I need you the most." Unfortunately for her, Arnold heard her say it. And it killed him inside.

She left a few minutes after that, once she delivered a final yelling at him. She took the fire escape to avoid being seen by any of the borders. She never came back to say goodbye.

Arnold eye's set on Helga's slightly shaky hands. "I told you on the same night you fought with your parents. Don't you remember?"

"Of course I remember!" she hissed before clenching her fists. "How could I forget it? I made a complete idiot out of myself-"

"You guys ready to go?" Phoebe's voice made Helga jump.

"Yes!" Helga hastily rose to her feet and darted towards the door with Phoebe on her heels. Phoebe paused at the door, glancing between Arnold and Gerald, as if signaling her boyfriend to talk to Arnold.

Gerald slid into the booth, taking Helga's seat. "I take it you told her then?"

"Told her what?"

"That you got accepted to NYU? That you'll be living here starting in January? Any of that ring a bell?"

"I barely got around to mentioning anything. We got stuck on the last time we saw each other."

"Oh, _shit_. You mean when she ran from you crying off your rooftop eight years ago?" Arnold pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding. "Don't let her stress you out. You weren't worried at all before."

"That was until -"

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." Gerald rose to his feet. "I know that look, Arnold. And believe me, that's a look I do not want to see on you. Please tell me you haven't." Gerald paused, examining his friend's face. "Oh,_ fuck_, you have."

Arnold stood up too. "Come on, let's go see New York."

Helga grit her teeth, clenching her jaw so hard she feared she'd break her molars. "Phoebe, why didn't you tell me he was coming?"

"He was supposed to tell you why himself," Phoebe smiled and held onto her friend's arm reassuringly. Helga was still surprised that Phoebe was tall enough to easily reach her shoulder.

"Why can't you just tell me?"

"I really can't do that, Helga. Just tell me what got you so upset. Why did you run out of there?"

"You know why," Helga sighed and slumped against a crosswalk sign. Actually, Phoebe _didn't. _

"Alright, I can tell you don't want to talk about it." Phoebe hugged her friend reassuringly. "So tell me what you've been up to since we last saw each other."

Helga shrugged. "It's mostly been sex and alcohol. And parties, can't forget about the parties, or the clubs. Oh, and the smoking. I have some cigarettes in my purse."

Although Helga had spit it out in a joking tone, Phoebe knew she was dead serious. "How do you make money?"

"Olga convinced my parents to send me two hundred a month, the little bitch. I assume they're no longer in Hillwood if I keep getting mail from California, am I right?"

Phoebe nodded. "Your dad expanded his company. It's now nationwide and your parents moved to California to help your sister with her acting."

"I should start asking for a lot more money."

"Oh, Helga, you're terrible."

Helga smiled, "You haven't changed, Phoebe." She paused. "Well, on the inside anyway. So how's your life been? Sorry I haven't. . ."

"It's okay, Helga. I know how you work better than you think. You needed your space, so I let you go. It was hard to see you leave, but you managed to become your own person. Believe me when I say you would've hated high school back in Hillwood."

"I hated it here, too." The best friends laughed. "I would've hated it anywhere because. . ."

"Alright, let's see The Big Apple!" Gerald took Phoebe's hand in his and waited for Helga to lead the way. She found walking in heels to be very easy now that she was sober, but she definitely wished she could down a few shots of some hard liquor before spending the day with Arnold. Today would be torture.


	2. 10:31 am to 1:30 pm: the café questions

_**"But I let my heart go. . .I'm only human, I've got a skeleton in me, but I'm not the villain."**_** -**_** Monster, **_**Paramore**

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><p><strong>Twenty-One Forever - Chapter Two<br>**

Arnold could feel the anger boiling inside Helga. He figured it was his special talent, like Phoebe's insane intelligence or Gerald's natural athleticism. He just always knew when she'd be having a meltdown of some sort, even after all these years.

The four walked in silence from the pancake house, Helga biting her tongue and glaring at the sidewalk. She tried to avoid being as close to Arnold as possible.

Phoebe seemed distant and worried, which upset Gerald. He pulled Arnold back subtly, whispering below the winter winds, "I think Helga said something to Phoebe."

"What?" Arnold asked. Obviously the two had talked, but what was he getting at?

"God, you're so dense," Gerald snickered. "I think whatever their girl talk was about upset Phoebe. She's being really quiet, even more than usual. And she won't talk to me."

Helga and Phoebe continued walking forwards, discussing the cold weather when Arnold got an idea.

"Hey, girls! We're gonna go into Central Park. Want to come?" Gerald, puzzled, followed Arnold's lead and crossed the street and into a side entrance to the park. Helga shrugged and smiled at her best friend. Phoebe smiled back and the two girls crossed the street, turning it into a race.

"Hey! No fair, I think your legs are longer!" Helga called as Phoebe clearly beat her to the spot the boys were resting.

"All's fair in love and war, Helga," Phoebe teased good-naturedly. Arnold nudged Gerald in the ribs and the two slipped away from the concrete bench.

"When did you get so good at running?"

"Gerald. He had this weird workout routine and decided to get Arnold and I involved."

"Oh," was Helga's reply. She suddenly felt very alone, even though the one person who truly cared about her well-being was sitting right beside her.

"I'm sorry, Helga."

"Sorry for what?" Helga shifted uncomfortably against the bench, turning her head in the opposite direction. A chill traveled down her spine. Another conversation she wanted to avoid having was happening at the worst possible moment.

"I'm sorry for not being able to help you." Phoebe's voice made Helga's heart ache.

Helga whipped around again to face her friend. "Shut up, Pheebs. I should be the one who's sorry! I just got up and left you."

"I was okay, Helga." Phoebe's smiled wavered, "I wasn't the one who just got her heart ripped out."

Helga's face fell as tears pooled in her eyes. How could it still hurt this badly after all this time? Wasn't time supposed to heal all wounds? "I'm sorry I never called or anything."

"Helga," Phoebe tipped her friend's chin up and looked her in the eyes, "I don't care. Just as long as you're safe and okay, I don't care. You're my best friend. I didn't handle the situation well. If I had run away, you would've been on the next plane out of Hillwood, hunting me down like a wild animal until I returned home." Helga laughed at Phoebe's characterization of her. She was right though.

It was silent for a minute, until Helga whispered "I guess we both fucked up, then."

Now it was Phoebe's turn to laugh.

And suddenly everything was okay. All the past feelings of hurt and anger were just gone. Having a friendship that close was incredible like that. It was easy to forgive mistakes when they truly loved each other.

"Will you promise me something, Helga?" Helga groaned before staring another giggle fit between the two. "You'll be careful, won't you? I'm just worried that you'll get hurt, you know, when you're out drinking. I almost had a heart attack after I heard what your roommate said."

Helga smiled, feeling very comforted by her friend's protectiveness. She had secretly missed that, having someone look out for her. After being alone and independent for eight years, Helga missed the idea of being worried about. Helga crossed her heart, feeling a warmth spread through her winter-chilled body. "I swear to you, Pheebs, I'll be better."

The two boys were standing a few feet away, leaning against the cold metal fence surrounding the park. Arnold turned to Gerald, arms crossed over his chest, with a smug smile on his face. "I told you."

Gerald shoved Arnold's shoulder, "No you didn't! You didn't say anything! You just left them alone."

"Well, I definitely thought something was wrong. They just needed to talk it out."

"Just like you have to," Gerald concluded.

"Hm?"

"Don't act like I forgot. I'll never forget that day," Gerald nudged Arnold's shoulder again when the girls came towards them. Both were smiling and laughing. Arnold was about to respond to Gerald, but Helga cut him off.

"Alright, let's get back to the tour," Helga threw her arms out towards the sky, "this is Central Park. And that's about as much history as I know." The four began walking along the path, coming near the pond at the southern end.

"It was created by Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux in 1858 after the state commissioned a design contest to improve New York," Phoebe added.

"Alrighty then," Helga nodded. "Broadway is right over there," she pointed to her left.

"Oh, my god, Helga!"

Helga slapped her palm to her forehead, slowly turning around to see. . .Adam? Alex?. .the guy she hooked up with jogging through the park. _Shit._

"Hey," she replied, half-waving. He walked over to her, panting and sweaty. Arnold, Phoebe and Gerald exchanged confused glances.

"You left so fast last night that you forgot your coat."

"I know. Do you think you could just send it to my apartment? I'm sort of busy," she pointed her thumb at her three friends, "and I just don't have the time to go get it."

Alex seemed hesitant to agree, but after seeing her smile, he figured it would be okay. He smirked when he realized she never said _how_ it had to be sent to her.

Alex handed over his iPhone, letting her type in her address. He would've asked for her to add her number too, but he figured not to push it. Helga was definitely stand off-ish, but she was just so beautiful that he couldn't help himself.

"I'll see you later then?" he said before quickly kissing her.

Helga went rigid before quickly pulling back, replying breathlessly, "I have to go." Helga darted towards Phoebe, latching onto her arm and speed walking to the exit of the park, right onto Broadway.

"Was that Alex?" Phoebe asked quietly.

Helga nodded. "Ugh, God, I never want to see him again."

The four resumed their walk, passing their chance to go to Broadway and going right, heading north again, back towards the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Helga was quietly giving Phoebe a quick recap of her night with Alex, trying to fill her in without scaring her too much. Gerald caught a few words of the conversation: "martinis. . .dark room. . ._sex-_" and that's when he immediately tuned out. Forcing his gag reflex to settle, he focused his attention on the city. He was only going to be here for a few more days, and in that time he'd have to help Arnold move into an apartment, register him for classes, and see some sights with Phoebe.

Arnold continued to stare at Helga as he began to wonder just how much she'd changed. An odd rise of feelings settled into his stomach: confusion and jealously. Together the two twisted themselves into a violent knot that rested in the pit of Arnold's gut. Maybe Gerald was right. Maybe he _had _just_- _

"And here's the MET," Helga announced.

"You're voice is just oozing with excitement," Gerald added sarcastically.

Helga shot Gerald daggers before responding, "You've seen one museum, you've seen them all." Gerald shrugged. "I came here on a class field trip once, which reminds me. . . I have to register for spring semester."

Phoebe laughed, "Any idea what you're taking?"

"I haven't even looked. I'm studying in the Creative Writing Program, I just haven't really buckled down and taken that many courses."

Phoebe continued to offer Helga advice on what classes she should focus on, which she appreciated. Helga wasn't really the best student, but her Poetry 203 teacher said that Helga had a lot of potential, so the school didn't kick her out. Helga had this semester to prove to the school that she was a good student or else she'd have to "take a semester off."

Another chill blasted through the air, whipping up the ends of coats on the busy New Yorkers who were all mashed together on the sidewalk. Helga shivered, wishing she had her jacket back, but _no_, Alex had it. That was the last time she'd hook up with someone without having her coat an arm's length away.

Gerald whispered something to Arnold, who only chuckled and shoved his friend in response. Helga was a little surprised at how quiet Arnold was being. Usually he was a lot more talkative. Was something bothering him?

_Why should you care? _a voice asked in her head.

_I always have, _she defended herself, _I just never show it. _

"Which NYU School do you go to?" Arnold asked suddenly.

"College of Arts and Sciences," she replied a little too quickly.

Ignoring the awkward silence that settled in, the four continued walking down 5th Avenue, not really sure where to go to next.

"It's almost noon," Gerald pointed out, "think maybe we should find some food?"

"Yeah, uh, sure," Helga lead her friends towards a small café she frequented when her roommate brought her to the park to run.

The four quickly sat down in a booth in the back of the restaurant away from the tourist families with small children, the hard working businessmen on cell phones and the high school kids who looked a little young to even be out by themselves. Helga grinned at the waitress, "Helga! You haven't been in here in forever, how are you?"

"I'm fabulous," Helga smirked, ignoring her friend's snickers, "and I'd like to put in a special request to Johnny. I need four."

The bubbly brunette nodded, "Of course. You know, he's missed you."

"I bet he has," Helga added with a laugh.

The girl took everyone's drink orders before disappearing into the back.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Gerald stared at Helga, "Okay, what the fuck was that?"

"What was what?"

"_That!" _He threw his hands into the air towards the empty space where the waitress had been standing. "Who the hell are you, Pataki? You don't say 'fabulous', you're never that polite and what's up with the mysterious orders?"

"I didn't know we'd be playing 20 Questions, Geraldo. Jesus, _relax."_

"What happened to Take No Prisoners Pataki? The toughest girl in school who didn't need to be nice to people? I want an explanation, because honestly, I have no idea who you are at the moment."

The café was small, and with the crowd of people's body heat and burning fire in the kitchen, the place seemed significantly warmer to Helga. Or maybe it was Gerald's piercing stare that caused heat to rise into her cheeks. Arnold stared blankly at the table top while Phoebe shrugged beside her. "We haven't really _talked_ in a long time," she whispered.

"Alright, fine. Since suddenly everyone's got an interest in my personal life, we'll play a game. You each ask a question, and I'll give you two answers. One will be true, the other a lie, and you have to decide which is which. And then later I get to guess about your lives."

"You're insane, Pataki," Gerald leaned forwards, "but I'll go first. How do you know this place?"

She held up one finger, "My roommate took me here after we went running in Central Park." She then flashed a peace sign, "I stumbled into this place drunk on my first night with a legal I.D."

"You have a convincing poker face, Helga, but I'm going with one."

"You sure?" she asked, hoping to give Gerald a sense of self-doubt.

"Positive."

Helga nodded, "You're right. How did you know?"

"You may be a party girl, Pataki, but you had to be innocent once."

"Alright, I have one!" Phoebe smiled. "How did you get an apartment at fourteen?"

"I had sex with the landlord's sixteen-year-old son. I had Olga's Broadway friend set me up."

Helga didn't know what was funnier, the look of shock on her friend's faces or the fact that they couldn't decide which one was a lie.

"I'm torn," Arnold admitted, "because I know you'd never ask Olga for anything, but on the other, I know you wouldn't -"

"Both are lies," Phoebe replied certainly.

Helga nodded, "I actually lived with my school's guidance counselor after she found me sleeping on a bench at the train station. I had been there for three days before she realized I was homeless." Helga shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling awkward. "Okay, Football Head, entertain me with your question."

Arnold pursed his lips, taking this game very seriously. Helga was being completely honest and open with people she hadn't seen in eight years, and he couldn't waste an opportunity like this. He had a million ideas for questions running through his mind. Why didn't she tell him? Why didn't she write to him? Everything was buzzing in his brain and it caused a nasty head ache.

"Here you go, Helga," the waitress quickly set down the drinks and the special order: four burgers.

"Yes! Thank you," Helga grinned at the waitress.

"How did you get burgers?" Arnold asked. He hadn't seen them on the menu at all.

Helga shrugged, "I may have had to eat some other meat before I could get to this."

Gerald choked on his drink. Mentally picturing that _- oh my god _he lost appetite. "Holy _shit_," Gerald mouthed to Phoebe.

Helga rolled her eyes, "It was like three years ago, get over it, Geraldo. Eat it. They're some of the best burgers in New York."

The group sat in silence for twenty minutes while they ate their burgers. No one really knew what to say after Helga's comment.

Helga disappeared behind the kitchen door to pay their waitress and say a thanks to Johnny before meeting Phoebe, Gerald and Arnold outside.

Helga smirked, "Any more questions or are you all out?"

"Where's your favorite place to go?" Phoebe asked.

"I like Rockafeller Center. I've gotten pretty good at ice skating over the years. It's a half an hour walk from here, but it could be fun."

"Sounds like a plan!"

The sidewalk began overflowing with people now that the roads became icy in the afternoon. Less cars on the road meant more people hopping on and off buses and power walking back to their offices. Phoebe, Arnold and Gerald followed behind Helga as she lead them through the throng of people. As the crowd began to push and shove, the four split into couples, with Gerald and Phoebe falling behind.

"I've got another question," Arnold announced. Gerald and Phoebe dropped back again, acting as if they weren't eavesdropping on the conversation. Arnold brought his attention from staring at the skyscrapers to looking at Helga. Her cheeks were turning red from the cold wind, her lips were a little chapped, and her sapphire blue eyes were glossed over with an emotion he couldn't identify. He wanted to say regret, but that seemed so unlike Helga. "Why?" Arnold whispered, letting his voice carry through the wind and crowd's noises.

"Why what?" Helga stiffened, voice rising unconsciously as she spoke, "Why did I become a slut? Why do I drink alcohol like it's water? Why do I not take school seriously? You're gonna have to be more specific Arnold."

"Why did you take it back?"

Helga froze mid-step and let her body get shoved around by passersby. "I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice shook, an immediate give away that she was lying. Arnold gently pulled her off to the side.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Gerald whispered to Phoebe as his arms slid around her two stood a few feet away out of earshot.

Phoebe took one quick side glance at Arnold and Helga before staring Gerald in the eyes. "The last time they saw each other, I guess?"

Arnold watched as Helga continued to grow tense. "What's wrong?"

"Is that a fucking joke, Arnoldo? You want to know what's _wrong_?" Arnold nodded, holding himself strong. He couldn't show fear. He could take whatever Helga screamed at him. He was certain her curses were a little more vulgar now, but she was still his fourth grade bully with a pretty big soft spot for him.

Her anger was still there, building up since earlier this morning, back when he sensed it. Arnold knew Helga just had to let it out and then she'd be okay.

"_Everything _is wrong, if you hadn't realized. I guess you're just too busy living in your dense fantasy world that you're always in," she seethed. "I'm a failure in school, I don't have a job or an interest in anything, and all I do is drink and fuck around. I'm _not _the same person you knew back in eighth grade. That Helga's gone. It's just," she gestured to herself by throwing her hands out at her sides, "screwed up, worthless, failure me."

Helga had reached her lowest point now, she was sure of it. This was way worse than her goodbye to Arnold in eighth grade. Everything just ached, it had been hurting for eight years. Running away didn't help. Seeing other guys didn't help. Nothing could numb the pain of the fact that she was _alone, _and the only person she truly loved had moved thousands of miles away to a foreign country. Heartbreak really fucked up a person.

"Helga," Arnold tipped her chin so she was facing him again. He could see the tears pooling her eyes and running off on her eyelashes, "you're not screwed up, or worthless, or a failure. The only thing that's changed is your age. So you're a little more open about your sexual exploits than other people, who says you wouldn't have been back in Hillwood? You can't think that your move to New York changed you, because it hasn't. You're still the confident, headstrong, no bullshit girl I knew back in eighth grade, and you always will be."

A tear escaped Helga's eye and Arnold quickly wiped it away before she could shove him off. He kept his hand on her cheek, once again bringing her piercing blue eyes back to his. "You've just grown up. You're even more beautiful than I remember."

And the winner for Saying Too Much goes to. . .

Gerald's ears perked up as the crowds died down around them. He definitely did not just hear what he thought he did, right? He made an inhumane sound, gasping at a very high pitch while muffling it behind his hand. "Oh, _shit, _did you hear that?" Phoebe nodded, feeling an odd mix of excitement and dread.

Gerald realized this conversation had to end now, or else a whole new realm of emotions would open and they'd be stuck outside in the frigid December air for hours. Gerald, against his better instincts, marched over to Helga and tapped her shoulder. "Um, Helga, this isn't the skating rink."

Arnold's eyes narrowed for a moment before he saw the panicked look on his friend's face. Something had to be wrong, or else he wouldn't have just interrupted like that.

Helga was still in a slight daze from being called _beautiful _by _Arnold, _so she stared at Gerald confused until his words processed in her mind. She rolled her eyes at Gerald's observation, "Change of plans. Let's get a taxi home. I need to rest and plan for tonight."

"What's happening tonight?" Phoebe asked while Helga flagged down a taxi.

"Your welcoming party, of course."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I am directionally challenged and know absolutely nothing about New York City. Every direction, place or school I've mentioned I've compiled from Google Maps and Wikipedia research, but that doesn't mean I put it together correctly.**  
><strong>


	3. 1:46 pm to 9:20 pm: the welcoming party

_**"Other places always make me sad, no other city ever made me glad except New York."**_** -**_** I Love New York, **_**Madonna  
><strong>

**"A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts." - Unknown**

* * *

><p><strong>Twenty-One Forever - Chapter Three<strong>

Fifteen minutes later, Arnold and Gerald were pacing on the roof of Helga's apartment, simultaneously running their hands through their hair. The atmosphere on the roof was very tense.

"Arnold, _man, _what were you thinking? You keep forgetting why we're here!"

Arnold stopped pacing and faced his friend, "To visit Helga."

"That's Phoebe's reason! We're here to get you used to the area!" Gerald slapped the back of his right hand into his left palm to emphasize his point. "You've never been on your own before, much less in a new city, and you start school in two weeks!"

"But I won't be alone!"

"If you keep up with that 'beautiful' shit you will be!"

Taken aback by the bluntness of Gerald's point, Arnold slid against the side of the roof, leaning his head back against the concrete. "What makes you say that?"

Gerald finally stopped pacing, but he kept his arms locked tight behind his back. "Phoebe told me everything." Arnold couldn't help but stiffen under Gerald's downcast glare.

"Be a little more specific."

"I don't know how much clearer I could be," Gerald muttered, eyes pointed up towards the steel gray sky. "I know that Helga was _in love _with you. Poems, shrines, the whole deal. Phoebe told me after you left, but I knew it just couldn't be true. My fifteen-year-old mind was blown away. . . . and yet the more I kept thinking about it, the more it made sense. And then when you started asking about her in your letters it all started to fit together."

"What are you talking about?"

"You liked her too. Deny it all you want, but everyone saw you two become incredibly close during seventh grade. Whatever happened, you guys just became friends, tolerating each other and helping each other and just acting different."

"Nothing unusual happened. Everything was the same as always. Our families both took summer vacations to the beach, we hung out, went back to school -"

"Wait, you hung out at the beach together?"

"Yeah. Ever since our families booked the same house in fourth grade, we just always went back. Even if we weren't in the same house, we'd call each other and hang out."

"Interesting," Gerald mused. "Wait a second. You're not denying that you liked her."

"I just sort of figured it was obvious," he shrugged before returning to his feet. "I mean, by the end of seventh grade I couldn't have a conversation with her unless it was giving advice because I'd fumble and stutter like an idiot."

"I wonder why I didn't notice?"

Arnold laughed, "You were too busy sucking Phoebe's face off every chance you got."

Gerald nodded. "But seriously, after all this time, you still like her? I mean, you had this look on your face at the diner, this overwhelmingly creepy look of adoration that I thought you had fallen in love with her or something. I know how you work, Arnold, and with one look you're head over heels. Think of every girl you've ever liked. . ." Arnold nodded, realizing his friend had a valid point. "I'm so freaked out right now."

* * *

><p>"<em>Why did you take it back?"<em>

Why_ did_ you take it back? . . .No answer.

Why did you take it back?_ Heat of the moment. _

Why did you take it back?

_. . .Because I'm scared. _

Helga covered her face with a pillow and screamed in frustration. This wasn't happening. Now was not the time for a mental breakdown. Why did Phoebe go check into their hotel _now_?

"You okay?" her roommate asked as she appeared out of her bedroom. She rested her arm against the back of the couch and smiled at Helga.

Helga nodded, ignoring the painful tug in her throat. "We're having a party tonight, down at Johnny's place. Invite everyone I know and get lots of alcohol."

"Why am I in charge of planning this party?"

"Because you love me and have nothing else to fill the empty void in your life since we're not in school?" Helga batted her eyelashes for added effect.

Her roommate groaned before grabbing her purse and keys off the counter. "I hate you" was the last thing she said before shutting the door.

Helga released another cry before jumping to her feet and slamming her fist into the wall. She needed to shower. The combination of hot water and peaceful solitude would provide the perfect environment to figure everything out.

Helga locked the bathroom door and began pacing while her showered warmed up. Why was she so freaked out? She knew this day would come, the day she came to terms with everything she'd been ignoring. As the steam began to overflow in the bathroom, Helga peeled off her clothes and slowly inched her way under the burning water.

"I'm okay," she muttered to herself, "Nothing to freak out about. Arnold's just talking about fourth grade again like it's no big deal, no need to panic."_ Oh my god, I'm doing it again! _She hadn't talked out loud to herself in such a long time. "Everything will be alright. I mean, it's not like I've actually - " her voice trailed off. Helga slammed her head into the wet tile, letting the tears mix in with the burning water that streamed down her face.

She hadn't cried this much in eight years.

After storming off Arnold's roof, Helga sprinted back to her house. Her feet had never carried her that fast in her life. Tears were becoming choked with gasps for air. She darted up her stairs, ignored Big Bob's shouts, then curled up into a ball on her floor. She was a puddle of emotions, just lying on her hard wood floor. It was there, in her mess of tears, that she decided to leave. To run. She only had a few hours since Bob and Miram were going to the airport to get Olga.

Helga tore into her closet, packing only a few clothing items before breaking down her bubble gum Arnold statue. Knowing Olga, she'd tear through every nook and cranny trying to find a clue for her sister's whereabouts. Helga packed away her pink notebooks into the attic, hoping her family would forget to look there.

In sixth grade, Helga started saving all the money she could, just in case Bob ran into financial trouble and couldn't pay for a college education. At that moment, Helga could care less about college, so she snatched up all her money in order to buy a train ticket and food. It was only two thousand dollars, not enough to buy her way into an apartment or hotel room at a young age. Whatever, it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was that she was getting away.

Deciding to save her family the trouble, Helga wrote NEW YORK on a piece of paper, stuck it on the fridge, dropped her cell phone on the counter, and left. Helga cried the whole walk to the airport, only stopping for a little while on her flight when she slept, and for her first few days in New York.

After being rescued and enrolled in Franklin High School, Helga forced herself to be distracted. She tried different sports, worked hard in school, joined a rec center, made friends, wandered around the City every weekend, and went to tons of parties. She didn't start to experiment with alcohol until the end of her sophomore year, and that was the beginning of the end for her. She lost her virginity to a guy in the bathroom while she was drunk at her second party of the summer. Parties became the thing, whether she threw them or attended them, all she did was drink from Friday until Sunday. She spent most of her Mondays hungover, and her guidance counselor tried really hard to control Helga. Helga didn't really listen to her, and the counselor didn't put up a fight.

After graduation, Helga was contacted by Olga. Surprised and scared out of her mind, Helga agreed to meet her. Olga simply handed Helga a check, telling her to turn in her deposit for college. Olga asked for Helga's address, and that was it. She was gone. No questions about why she left or if she was going to be coming home. It was weird, but Helga didn't think too much about it. Maybe Olga understood her, or maybe Olga just gave up caring. Either way, Helga was happy to be getting money every month from her parents.

Thinking back now, Helga could remember the pain. Her beloved was gone, and she was essentially alone, with no one but her heartbreak to keep her company. It was a rough time, but Helga blocked it out with drinking, sex and dancing.

And those eight years of locked up emotions swirled back violently, causing Helga to cry again. Somehow she ended up on the floor of the shower, curled up in a ball, letting the cold water pelt her skin. Helga continued to sob.

"Helga!"

Helga forced her hand over her mouth.

The bathroom door flew open and Helga screamed out of surprise. "What?" she hissed.

"Are you okay?"

Helga returned to her feet and turned off the water, "Fucking fabulous, alright Football Head. Get out! I'm in the shower!"

Arnold backed away and returned to the living room only to see Gerald doubled over, laughing. "I told you not to go in there."

Helga emerged in her robe a few minutes later, "Why don't you guys go to your hotel? Phoebe's been there for almost an hour now."

Gerald kept his attention focused on the TV, "We don't know where it is."

"And calling her would be too difficult because. . .?"

"We're comfortable," Gerald shrugged and sunk deeper onto the couch. Arnold smirked, "I'll call her."

"Good. You guys come back here at seven, alright? And dress nicely, Johnny's a little bit like someone else we know."

"What does that mean?" Gerald asked as he tugged open her apartment door.

Helga smirked, arms crossed over her chest, "Does the word _soiree _mean anything to you?"

* * *

><p><em>Knock knock.<em>

Helga jumped off her couch, wrapping her robe around her half-clothed body and opened the door. She assumed that her roommate grabbed the wrong set of keys, or couldn't get to them with all of her bags of alcohol. She opened the door to see. . ."Helga?"

"Shit!" she replied before slamming the door shut in Alex's face.

Alex counted to five before knocking again.

"Just a second!" Helga screamed as she struggled to pull her jeans over her legs. _Fucking skinny jeans! _she cursed as she tripped over the ends of them, falling to her face in the kitchen. She forgot about her step down from her bedroom to the living room.

"Alright," Alex replied.

In her panic, Helga never put on a shirt.

"Hello," she exhaled and opened the door. Alex smirked, "I have your coat."

"Thanks." Helga forcibly removed it from his hands. She watched as his eyes shifted and traveled down her body. It was an unsettling feeling, especially since she was sober. "Do you mind?"

Alex blushed, "Sorry. I, uh, was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight."

_Gotta give kids props for being persistent,_ Helga thought as she put on her disappointed face. "I can't, I'm so sorry. My friends and I are going out to celebrate their arrival."

"Where are they now?"

"Their hotel," she replied, suddenly realizing she just left herself wide open for the afternoon. _Shit._ "But I actually have to get ready, I need to go get drinks and stuff for a party."

"Oh, yeah, Johnny's thing, right?"

"How did you hear about it?"

"He Tweeted," Alex handed over his iPhone, "'PARTY 2NITE MY PLACE. THANK HELGA PATAKI.' I didn't even now you knew him."

"Yeah, Johnny and I go way back," she shifted awkwardly and walked farther back into her apartment.

"That's cool. Anyway, he said it's open house. . .Wait, why am I telling you this? You already know."

"Yeah, I _really _need to go though, so I just. . .please."

Alex could sense Helga's odd sense of panic. "Alright. I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, at the club," Helga waved her hand to dismiss him. Alex shrugged before shutting the door.

As Alex returned to the cold of the street, he felt as if maybe pursuing Helga was something he should give up.

* * *

><p>Johnny owned the entire building and had the first five levels emptied out and opened up to be a giant dance floor with bars at every corner. He had a club in his house! He opened it at eight every night and closed it around three, depending on the crowds. He charged a low admission and allowed in more people than recommended, but made tons of money on selling drinks. He had a strict dress code that required girls in dresses and guys in button downs and nice pants. He preferred his club goers looking classy, even though the club was barely decorated. The walls were painted black and there were disco balls hanging from the sixth floor, where Johnny built in very large shelves to seat V.I.P.'s in booths. The "shelves" were like a catwalk in a theater, except wider and nailed to the wall. They formed a frame around the dance floor and were the prefect way to let Johnny watch the happenings in his house.<p>

The seventh floor was empty except for bathrooms and a smoking room with a large window that let the air circulate out into the street. The eighth was where Johnny lived, and the last three levels were smaller versions of the club downstairs reserved for smaller parties. Helga's was originally going to be held on the eleventh floor, but Johnny decided to call in a thousand more people and opened up his whole club. Everyone that Helga had invited suddenly became intermixed with the club-goers from Johnny's guest list, but Helga didn't care. She left her roommate, Alex, Phoebe, Gerald and Arnold back on floor eleven while she thanked Johnny on the shelves.

"Johnny, you are an absolute doll," Helga sloppily kissed his cheek and tousled his slicked back black curls.

"I know, baby, I know," he laughed and leaned to his right, draping his arm around the stunning brunette who looked as if she just walked off the set of a fashion show. "That's Helga," Johnny pointed, "and it was her idea for the party!"

The girl giggled and raised her martini glass into the air, "To Helga!" she cheered. Everyone else around Johnny's large circular table threw their drinks into the air, echoing the model girl's exclamation. Helga shrugged before finishing her Vodka and Tonic.

"I'm off!" Helga jumped to her feet and walked back to her friends.

Phoebe and Gerald were curled up on a couch together, talking and slowly drinking. Gerald was drinking a whiskey on the rocks and Phoebe had a very pink and fruity drink in a martini glass.

Arnold was sitting at the bar, talking with Alex and laughing. Helga practically shrieked at the sight. Arnold did seem a little tipsy, though. He was swaying too much on the spinning bar stool and he was laughing an awful lot.

"Helgaaa!" Her roommate slurred her words, draping her arm around Helga's shoulders, slamming the almost empty bottle of Tequila into Helga's chest. "The bottle's almost doneeee! Body shots!"

"I'm so in!" Alex cheered, chugging the last of his drink. Gerald and Phoebe made their way to the bar to watch, Gerald hysterically laughing.

"Get down!"

Helga was shoved onto the bar, but quickly whispered into her roommates ear, "_Do not let Alex near me_!" Her roommate winked before grabbing Arnold's shoulders, "You're up dude!"

Arnold was definitely buzzed. Maybe even a little more than that. He wasn't really sure what he was being instructed to do right now, so he just nodded as he was handed the shot glass.

Gerald could not control himself, he was gasping for air as he continued to laugh. He whipped out his phone, recording the entire thing.

Helga quickly stuck the lime in her mouth before laying back on the counter. She shut her eyes, ignoring Gerald's snickers, and waited for someone to put the salt on her. She felt the crystals being applied to her neck, so she tipped her head back even farther to expose more skin. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, she could feel Arnold staring at her.

Arnold didn't know what was weirder, his uncontrollable animalistic urge to just bruise her neck with his lips and teeth, or the fact that he found none of this situation weird. He had to be really drunk.

Ignoring his instincts, Arnold leaned forwards and licked the salt off of Helga's neck in one long stroke, leaving her with a kiss on her jawline before taking the burn of the alcohol in the back of his throat only drove him farther and he quickly sucked on the lime, fully removing it form Helga's mouth with a slip of his tongue.

Helga was frozen into a catatonic state. She went numb from the press of his hot, thick tongue against her neck. Her mind stopped working when he kissed her, and she was pretty sure her heart exploded when he took the lime out of her mouth. Good God, she was imagining some really nasty things that Arnold could do with that tongue.

"Another!" Gerald announced, pouring more Tequila into Arnold's shot glass. Phoebe held the camera now, watching with amusement as Helga applauded. Her roommate quickly unzipped the back of Helga's dress, removing her long sleeves from her shoulders slowly. "Stop teasing me!" Helga hissed, swatting away her roommate.

Helga returned to her original position on her back, laughing as the salt touched her stomach. Her roommate splashed a little on her chest and black lacy bra, hoping Arnold would notice it. She may have known absolutely nothing about Helga and Arnold's past, but she could feel the intense sexual tension between the two. There was a definite attraction there, and it seemed to be really emotional as well. But what did she know? She was drunk and could've been imagining it.

The alcohol was making Arnold feel extremely confident. Normally he never would've even thought about doing one, let alone two, body shots off Helga, but here he was, half-drunk out of his mind with a half-naked Helga getting ready to lick salt off of her torso. She bit the end of the lime, holding it in between her teeth, smiling.

Arnold leaned forwards and licked the path from Helga's bellybutton up to her chest, tongue dipping over the fabric of her bra before removing the last grains of salt off her breasts.

He downed the shot in seconds flat, removing the lime with more force before kissing her gently.

Helga was mentally declaring herself brain dead after that happened.

Gerald hollered and pumped his fist into the air before Phoebe stopped recording. He knew tomorrow was going to be fun.

Helga was dizzy with emotions, most prominent was drunken arousal, but she rose to her feet, adjusted her dress and searched the room for her purse. "I need a cigarette," she announced to no one in particular before disappearing into the club.

Arnold felt like he was going to vomit. It could have been from the Tequila shots he downed, the fact that he could still taste Helga's perfume on his tongue, or just the idea of actually having done a body shot off of her that was making his stomach knot. He stumbled out of the party and down a hallway, hoping to find a bathroom. He opened up the first door and only found stairs. Still a little dizzy, Arnold made his way up the stairs and found himself on the roof of Johnny's house.

"Whoa!" The slap of cold air to his face definitely sobered him up, but the view of the city was incredible! It was so much busier than Hillwood. Dozens of taxis flew down the avenue to the left of the building and all of the apartment lights were still on the building across the street. Groups of drunken young adults were marching from one club to the next, with a few stumbling into Johnny's building.  
>Helga jumped out of her skin at the sound of the door slamming. "Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me?"<p>

"Why are you smoking?" Arnold asked, reaching forwards and plucking the cigarette from Helga's lips.

"I always smoke when I'm drunk," she replied, watching the ashes burn out on the ground. She made no movement to get another.

"Why not in the smoking room?"

"Too many people," she shot back.

Maybe that knot in his stomach was from the fact that he knew he had to tell Helga why he was here and he was afraid to see how she'd react.

Helga turned her attention back to leaning on the edge of the roof. "When are you guys leaving?"

"Saturday." _I'm coming back less than two weeks after that._

"Flying on New Year's Eve? I'm surprised you guys are staying for the festivities," Helga laughed and pulled her dress sleeves tighter over her shoulders. Arnold wished he had his jacket with him to put on her shoulders.

"My parents want me home," Arnold said, "first New Year's in the states and everything."

"Right, I forgot, Phoebe mentioned that in the e-mail." Helga pursed her lips as the awkward silence settled in. She tapped her fingers against the concrete. For some reason she could never shut up when she was drunk, "Think you'll ever come back to New York?"

Did Helga already know? Was she _hinting_ at this? "I know Phoebe and Gerald want to during the summer. I know I'll be back sooner, though."

"Why?" Helga chuckled, "This place sucks during the winter."

This was it. Now or never. "I'm, uh. . .actually a student here, at the NYU Steinhardt School of Culture, Education and Human Development."

Helga could've sworn her brain just rewired itself, because there was no way that just came out of Arnold's mouth. It wasn't the fact that the school had a ridiculously long name, it was the fact that the school was a branch of New York University. _New York_. He'd be living in the _same city_ she was.

"R-really?"

"Yeah," he replied, suddenly feeling very at ease since Helga wasn't screaming. "I start January 10th. Gerald wanted me to come and see the city, take in some sights so I wouldn't feel so out of place. He was worried about me not being able to adjust to life after San Lorenzo, which is stupid, I'm totally fine-"

"Shut up!" Arnold bit his lip, realizing he had been rambling to fill the silence. "I can't fucking believe this! You're moving here?" Arnold nodded. She looked at him, eyes narrowed with suspicion for a minute before declaring, "God, I need a drink."  
>Arnold was faster than Helga, and he quickly blocked her from returning to the party. Helga tried to shove his arm off the doorway, "Move!"<p>

"Talk to me," he begged.

She continued to struggle, but Arnold had a vice-like grip on the door frame. "No!"

"You don't need to drink your problems away, it's not healthy. You won't be twenty-one forever, Helga, and one day you won't be able to bounce back as easily."

"Then who says I need to bounce back?" she hissed.

"Don't talk like that." Helga rolled her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Well, you're kind of freaking out," Arnold's hold on the door relaxed, "I'd like to know why."

"Don't make me say it," she whispered. Arnold leaned in closer to hear her, but instead of repeating herself Helga locked her lips shut. Arnold continued to stare at her and Helga found it hard to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. He just looked so damn concerned that Helga found herself wanting to open up.

"Just talk to me Helga."

"Don't tell me what to do, Football Head! If I don't want to talk about the fact that you're moving here, then I don't have to! I need to go back to the party!" Helga shoved Arnold back and made it to the door before feeling herself stop. She tried to push herself forward, but instead her heels stayed grounded on the roof. Damn it.

"I left Hillwood to get away from you," she announced suddenly, eyes still focused on the door in front of her.

Arnold perked up, lifting his eyes from staring at the street below to stare at the back of Helga's head. "But I was leaving."

"Don't remind me." Helga finally spun on her heels and faced Arnold. He had back himself up against the edge of the building, giving Helga the chance to leave if she wanted. "I ran away to escape the pain of losing you."

No anger. No sarcasm. No bullshit. Arnold didn't know how to respond for a second. "I wasn't going to be gone forever-"

"Yes, you would have. And you _were_. Everyone knew that once you found your parents you'd never want to leave. It was a big deal for you to find them, and I'm happy that you did. You deserved happiness. I just. . .I always ruined everything with you."

"No, you never ruined -"

"Oh, that's right I forgot, we had nothing." Helga laughed dryly.

"That's not true. Don't you remember?. . .Seventh grade? The beach?"

Helga visibly straightened, but lied with a simple "No."

Arnold stepped closer, looking Helga up and down to take in her body language. He knew she was lying, she continued to fidget under his gaze. "Yes you do," he teased, taking two more steps closer. Helga backed up into the door, hand turning the handle.

"No, I don't!" She opened the door behind her. Arnold stopped walking and held his hands up. "I'm going to get another drink. I expect you gone when I get back," she demanded before slamming the door.

Arnold counted to thirty before making his way back into the overcrowded and extremely hot welcoming party. He listened to the intense dubstep sounds pounding through Johnny's stereo system, but his mind was playing the sound of the ocean's waves crashing under a full moon.

She remembered that summer night, he knew she did.


	4. 9:21 pm to 10:15 pm: the beach

_**"And we took too many shots, think we kissed, but I forgot."**_** -**_** Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F)**_**, Katy Perry**

**_"As I'm looking to the sky to count the stars, I wonder if you see them where you are." - Walk On Water or Drown, _Mayday Parade  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Twenty-One Forever - Chapter Four<strong>

"Should we be doing this? Won't we get in some sort of trouble?"

"No, Football Head. You only get in trouble if you get caught, and I promise you, we won't get caught," Helga wrapped her hand around Arnold's wrist and pulled him forward, practically dragging his body through the sand. Sneaking out at midnight to go onto a closed beach was not something Arnold had planned on doing.

He actually never really planned on doing anything tonight, so now he was fumbling around in the dark in his pajamas with Helga G. Pataki. Oh, boy, how did he get into this mess?

He was used to hanging out with Helga over their summer breaks. It was like an unspoken truce between them, when Helga wouldn't explode over every little thing and Arnold would butt out of Helga's life unless she came to him. They'd been coming to the beach since fourth grade, and now the two thirteen-year-olds had fallen into a routine. But they'd never sneaked out after dark before, let alone on their last night at the beach.

The two finally emerged from beyond the sand dunes and natural vegetation and onto the flat, open span of beach. It was completely deserted, not a soul in sight. Helga was surprised, she assumed a bonfire would be happening. Quickly opening her beach towel, Helga set it on the sand and collapsed onto it, laughing as Arnold fell on top of her.

"Comfy," Arnold wiggled his shoulders deeper into Helga's stomach.

Helga struggled to get a solid grip on him since he kept moving. "Get off!"

Arnold rolled over so now their stomachs were touching. He rested his chin in his hands, using his elbows to keep Helga down, "Nope. I like it. You're very warm," he pressed down a little harder, "and comfortable." It was true. Helga had extremely soft skin and seemed to be holding extra body heat tonight. Nights on the beach became cold, especially near the water when the ocean breeze rolled in and splashed cold water into the air. Helga was curled up in her favorite over-sized sweatshirt, tank top and running shorts.

Helga kicked her legs into the air. "Shut up and get off me before I kick your ass!"

"Nope!" Arnold leaned in closer to Helga, now practically laying on top of her. Their lips were just _inches. . ._

Helga shifted upwards, snarling, "I will murder you!"

Arnold, the pacifist that he was, rose to his feet before offering a hand to lift Helga up. She held her hand out before becoming a dead weight. Arnold laughed, "Come on, don't do this to me!"

"Payback's a bitch, Arnoldo. Besides, you're weak. You can't even lift me off the ground and I weigh less than a hundred pounds!"

Arnold smirked before bending down and lifting Helga in his arms, bridal style. She laughed and kicked sand into the air, "Let me go! You proved your point!"

Arnold shook his head no, running forwards into the ocean. Helga screamed louder, but Arnold silenced her by pressing his hand to her mouth. She gently bit down, causing Arnold to laugh out of surprise.

Unknown to Arnold and Helga, they were flirting. Big time. But their semi-innocent minds had not yet experienced the peer pressures that misinformed them on the social interactions between girls and boys of a certain age.

A large wave rolled over Arnold's hips, just barely grazing the low of Helga's back. "I swear to God, Arnold, if you drop me I will _kill_ you!" She clawed herself higher into Arnold's arms, her nails digging into his shoulders. Arnold hoisted her higher, avoiding the water, but he became soaked in the process.

"I would never drop you!" he repeated for the tenth time. Helga simply glared at him as another wave crashed down.

Sensing her distress, Arnold returned to shore and their small towel. He shivered violently, twitching as the wave of chills traveled down his body. Helga watched him with a confused expression, laughing as he sat down beside her. "We should dry off or something."

Helga rubbed the droplets of water off her legs before sinking deeper into her towel. "My ass is a little wet, but other than that I'm okay. Maybe you should've thought your little stunt through."

Arnold sighed, falling back against the towel, realizing Helga was right. Another chill shook Arnold's body, and before he knew what he was doing, he was shrugging off his shirt and pulling Helga close to him.

Holding in a squeal of surprised delight, Helga feigned disgust, "_What _are you doing?" she hissed.

"I'm freezing, wet and trying to dry off. And you're very warm," his face met with the dip in her exposed shoulder. He begged in a low whisper, "Please just let me warm up." Who could say no to that?

The silence was comfortable between them as Arnold pulled Helga even closer, his hand slipping under her sweatshirt and resting on her hip. Helga was definitely not going to complain.

"What are we supposed to be doing now?" Arnold asked.

"Relax," Helga replied as she rolled over to face him. Her hand shifted so now it was resting over his heart, "Watch the stars. Do nothing. It's our last night of summer."

Arnold nodded and turned his eyes to the stars. Instead of naming off constellations like he usually did, he was trying to convince himself that this situation was no big deal. He was just _cuddling_ with _Helga_, watching the stars. . .nothing _unusual _or anything.

Who was he trying to kid? This was very weird. But at the same time, he didn't really mind.

A sense of calm flowed through Arnold as he subtly pulled Helga closer, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. Everything just seemed so natural between them that he didn't really want to question it.

* * *

><p>Helga was panicking.<p>

Her mind was reeling from the events of the last forty five minutes.

In that small amount of time, her body had been worshiped by Arnold's tongue, she half-smoked a cigarette, learned that Arnold was going to be living in New York, confessed to Arnold all of the confusion that was swirling around her drunken brain, and made it safely back inside. Only now she was locked in a private bathroom, hyperventilating.

Her phone rang with three new text messages, but Helga couldn't bring herself to read them. It was probably Phoebe, but she didn't want to see her now. She didn't want to see anyone.

Fifteen minutes later, Helga emerged from the bathroom completely calm. She went straight to the bar to do another shot of Vodka before searching for Phoebe or her roommate. Maybe she'd even find Alex if she got drunk enough.

When she reached the eleventh floor, she realized she was alone. Confused, she pulled open her phone.

9:15 P.M. PHOEBE: Gerald and I went back to the hotel. Haven't seen Arnold. We left your friends at the bar.

9:20 P.M. PHOEBE: Arnold took your friends home.

9:35 P.M. PHOEBE: Arnold's still not back yet.

Knowing Arnold, he wouldn't leave her apartment until she arrived home safely. Rolling her eyes, Helga went off in search of her coat.

_*21*_

"You. . ._you and Helga _should have sexxx!"

"I already did!"

"Not you, dumbo!"

These comments were followed by giggles until Alex finished off his extra large bottle of Smart Water. "You're so right though," he gasped as he regained his breathing post-chugging. "They totally should!"

Arnold blushed, fumbling to get the key into the lock. The faster they got settled into bed, the better.

"Really, you should. It'd be like magical, or something!"

Arnold rolled his eyes as he threw open the door. Holding one drunk person on his shoulder was hard, but two? It was almost impossible. He was going to collapse from Alex's weight alone.

It was easy to get them down the elevator and into the cab, they were less than twenty blocks away on neighborhood streets, but getting them up the stairs into Helga's apartment was another story entirely.

The entire time up the stairs, Alex tried singing Ke$ha and Katy Perry songs that were played at the club. Arnold tried not to claw his ears off. Drunk or not, Alex should never sing. Ever.

But then when Helga's roommate had flashbacks to Arnold's body shots, it became all she could talk about. He was definitely sober, and definitely intrigued as to what his drunken self did to Helga that had her friend so riled up. He remembered the overwhelming taste of flowery perfume and the fresh scent of her skin as he ran his tongue along it, but that was as far as it got. The rest was blurred.

Arnold first dropped Alex off at the couch, laughing as he face planted onto the sofa. Helga's roommate promptly flopped onto her bed, kicked off her heels and slipped under her covers.

Arnold then adjusted Alex's position on the couch so his body stretched across the entire thing and dropped a blanket on him before arranging everything else. He placed a trash can besides both of their heads. He searched the apartment for glasses of water and bottles of aspirin before setting them within arms reach of each drunk.

And now he could finally leave, even though he had an empty, nagging feeling at the back of his head. He needed to find Helga. _Maybe I should wait here. . ._he thought before collapsing onto the smaller couch.

Helga stumbled up the stairs in her heels, once again cursing herself for wearing such high shoes when she knew that there wasn't an elevator in her building.

All she wanted was to curl up in her pajamas and go to sleep and forget about today. As soon as she opened the door and saw Arnold staring at her, she realized that wouldn't happen.

"I want to talk to you," he whispered. Helga pointed to the glass door behind them, directing Arnold out to the patio. She flashed him a peace sign, hoping he'd get the hint that she wanted two minutes to change.

Clearly that shot she downed before leaving was giving her courage to face this head on. Or maybe it was the second one she did after she found her coat?

Helga threw on her thick pajama bottoms, a long sleeved shirt, socks, her favorite gray over-sized sweatshirt that said HILLWOOD BASEBALL that she had since she was a kid, grabbed two blankets and opened the patio door.

She knew this would be the longest night of her life.

"Let's get this over with," Helga grumbled as she sat down on her deck chair. "What do you want to talk about?"

Arnold wrapped the blanket around his shoulders before answering, "Everything."

"Fucking fantastic," she muttered to herself, but Arnold still heard her. "Alright, well. . .talk."

"Are you okay?"

"Just a little drunk," Helga shot back, laughing. "I did two shots before coming home because I knew this would happen. But I don't care what you say, I want to get this over with. Drunk or not, we're talking this out."

"Uh, okay."

Helga sunk deeper into her blanket cocoon, waiting for Arnold to say something. Instead, he just watched her. "Talk!" she hissed.

"It's been eight years. We have a lot of catching up to do," Arnold smiled. It was quiet between them until he asked, "You remember the night on the beach?"

"Yeah," she nodded, fingers toying with the end of her sweatshirt sleeve.

Arnold shifted back in his chair, "You remember all the flirting we did, the cuddling and everything?"

"_Yes_. I spent a long time trying to _forget _about it."

"Why?"

"Because it was a one time thing at the beach. Nothing had changed. Back at school, sure, I wasn't as mean to you as before, but that didn't mean I could just drop my act completely."

"But you did at the beach. Why not at Hillwood?"

"Because I had a reputation to uphold. I couldn't let everyone think I was going soft just because we had a meaningless interaction on the beach, could I?"

"It wasn't meaningless." Helga laughed. "At least, not to me." Helga said nothing. "That night was important to me. It was when I realized I like-liked you."

Helga's first thought was _Who the hell still says 'like-liked'?_ before the reality of his words set in. "Oh."

"Yeah, it was kind of a shock to me, honestly. The more I thought about it, though, the more I liked the idea of being with you. I tried to gather up the courage to tell you, but all I could think about was F.T.I. - "

"It never happened."

Arnold leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, "What never happened? The beach? F.T.I.?"

"All of it! Nothing ever happened between us, okay? I just picked on you, alright?"

"Why are you denying this. . .us?"

"_Us_?" Helga rolled her eyes. "Please, Arnold, get real."

"I always thought we had. . .something, at least. I had always thought you were nice, and just hiding it with your bullying, and there were times when you proved me right. Every time we went to the beach together I was just reminded that you were a nice girl, Helga, but you were scared."

Much to her embarrassment, tears escaped her eyes. Instead of drawing attention to them, she said, "I'm not scared."

"Then why did you take it back?"

It was silent on the roof, the noises of the busy streets seemed to disappear with the howling of the wind. Helga said nothing as tears continued to fall.

Arnold watched her, feeling a violent tug at his heart. He needed to say something. He opened his mouth, but Helga cut him off with a yell, "No, just go! I'm done! _Leave_! It's what you do best anyway!"

Arnold slowly rose to his feet, feeling the emotional weight of night finally settle in on his shoulders. That was a verbal bitch slap, and it definitely stung.

"I could say the same about you."

Helga froze for a moment. Did he really just - ? "Oh, hell no, Football Head!" she seethed, "I left because you were leaving!"

"I left to find my parents, and I find out a month later in a letter that you had run away!" Arnold's voice was rising, "Do you know how badly I felt? You ran away because of _me. _I felt guilty for even wanting to leave!" Helga wiped the tears off her cheeks but said nothing. "I tired my hardest to get back to you, Helga, I really did. But I was scared too. I had never felt like this about someone before. I didn't know what to do. I spent half of my time convincing myself that everything would be okay, and the other half convinced that you were in trouble."

"I wasn't."

"You don't call quaffing to escape your pain _trouble_?"

"No," she replied indignantly.

Arnold sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, "I came here to see if you wanted to at least try to work something out, because I know you're still hurt, but I guess you don't want to." Helga nodded, more tears rolling down her cheeks. "Look, I'll leave you alone forever, if that's what makes you happy." Arnold slowly moved from his standing position towards the door.

Helga was sobbing now, but that didn't stop her from yelling out, "I took it back because I knew you'd never love me the way I loved you!"

Arnold let go of the door handle, overwhelmed with the chills. The power and heartbreak behind her words made him ache. "How. . .how did you know I didn't?"

Helga's voice lowered to an accusatory tone, "Did you?"

Arnold turned around, feeling the world shift with him. "I _could_ have, if you let me, if you had just told me. . ."

Helga jumped to her feet and shoved Arnold into her glass door, almost causing it to shatter. "You're the one who suggested it be heat of the moment!"

"I knew you were lying!"

"You. . . _gahhh_!" Helga clenched her fists and pushed them into Arnold's chest. Instead of shoving her off, Arnold wrapped his hands around her wrists, hesitantly uncurling her fingers.

"I know you still love me, Helga."

With those six words Helga felt a mixture of complete relief and sheer terror. The past eight years worth of pain just seemed to blend together and form a small, minute cloud in the back of her mind. The last half hours confession released everything else she'd had pent up, all of that anger and frustration just seemed to melt away. She felt free, but at the same time still hesitant. Helga's eyes remained glued to their intertwined fingers. "So. . .what if I do?" she whispered.

"I've always liked you, after all this time," he paused as Helga tried to hide her smile. "I want to take you on a date," he let one hand go and ran it through her hair before cupping her cheek, "maybe dance the tango somewhere, or go ice skating, or back to a beach. I just want to be with you. . .the _real_ you that I know that's still deep down inside of you." Helga swallowed hard, suddenly feeling at a loss for words.

"After your date," she smirked, "we'll have to do things my way, New York Helga's way. Clubs, drinking," she walked two fingers up Arnold's shoulder, "_body shots_."

Arnold chuckled, feeling Helga suddenly relax against him. "I think I can manage," he replied in a low, husky voice. A chill of pleasure shot down Helga's spine and bubbled in her toes.

"The night's still young, Football Head. Think we can do it my way first?"

"Oh, I'd love to," he replied, forcing open the patio door and stumbling backwards inside. Helga quickly disappeared into her room to change, feeling excitement and butterflies swirl in her stomach.

Tonight was going to the greatest night of her entire life and she hoped she'd never forget it.


	5. 8:01 am: the mother of all hangovers

**A/N:** I had an intense _The Hangover_ marathon before writing this chapter. (Watched the first one yesterday for fun, then had to go watch it again before seeing the second one in theaters with my friends.)

The plot for these upcoming chapters was a fate that could not be avoided.

That should explain everything. And you've been warned.

* * *

><p><strong>Twenty-One Forever - Chapter Five<strong>

**_Saturday, December 31st - 4:32 p.m._  
><strong>

Phoebe frantically pressed 'redial', only to get Helga's voice mail. She groaned and collapsed onto the unmade hotel bed, wrinkling the red and gold sheets she had slept in last night. After dialing Arnold, she tried her boyfriend, _"Hey it's Gerald, I'm not here, leave a message."_ Phoebe slammed her phone down and turned to Sarah, Helga's roommate, eyes wide with panic, "I can't get any of them."

"It's okay, they're with Johnny. He's like the king of disappearing then reappearing. There's nothing to worry about."

"That's not very reassuring."

_Ring. . .ring. . ._

"Phoebe? It's. . .uh, it's Helga." Helga rocked back and forth on her heels, eyes examining the situation in front of her. Johnny and Gerald were leaning against a car, whispering to each other just how fucked up this entire situation was.

Phoebe wanted to scream out of joy. They were okay! "Where are you guys? I am _freaking _out!"

"We. . .uh, we fucked up."

"What does that mean?"

"The party, the entire night, everything got way out of control. I. . .I don't even know how, but we lost Arnold."

"_What_?"

Helga winced as she repeated herself, "We lost Arnold."

If Phoebe hadn't been sitting on her hotel's bed, she would have fainted. "It's New Year's Eve today, we have to get him home! We're supposed to leave this afternoon! Our flight takes off at seven!"

"Yeah. . .that's not gonna happen."

* * *

><p><strong>One Day Earlier<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Friday, December 30th - 10:29 p.m.<strong>_

"If this is your first date, why do you have a third wheel?"

The music was roaring through the speakers hanging on the V.I.P level, but Johnny could still hear perfectly. He was so excited to hear Helga's response to this. Gerald choked back his laugh by sipping on his beer. He leaned forwards towards Johnny, "They called me to chaperone them. Helga said, and I quote, 'I'm getting fucked up and bringing Arnold with me.'"

Johnny cheered, "God Bless Helga!" He promptly slid two beers down the table, "Drink up, guys. The party's just starting and I am always down for a good time." Neither Helga or Arnold touched the drinks.

"Perfect, someone for Gerald to hang out with," Helga joked before grabbing Arnold's hand and taking him to the club level.

They returned to the shelves at eleven-thirty, both drenched in sweat from grinding on the over-crowded dance floor.

"I am completely disturbed," Gerald said as he finished his glass of water. He promised Arnold he'd be responsible, so he only had one drink.

Arnold laughed as he leaned into Helga, arms wrapped around her waist, "Why?"

Gerald arched his eyebrow and stared at his friend, curious as to why he was acting innocent, "You guys were basically fucking on the dance floor."

Helga shook her head, "No, there were people actually having sex. We were tame."

"Whatever," Johnny waved his hand in the air to dismiss previous statements.

"Let's go to another club!" Helga exclaimed. Arnold shrugged and nodded before flashing a smile at Gerald. He sighed and rose to his feet.

"Wait, we should do a celebratory shot first!" Johnny quickly disappeared behind the bar and poured four shots of Tequila. "To Helga and Arnold for wanting to get fucked up tonight!"

"I wish you guys luck together," Gerald said as their shot glasses _clink_ed. "I really do."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Saturday, December 31st - 8:01 a.m.<em>**

Gerald felt his world go from blurred insanity to insanely bright pain. He gently picked himself up off the floor and stumbled onto the couch, ignoring all of the obvious signs of damage in the hotel room. He moaned in pain before holding his stomach, trying to keep his vomit down. He hadn't puked after drinking since high school.

To an outsider, it looked like Hell tore through the Four Seasons Royal Suite Hotel Room. After opening the door, the suite opened up into a main living room with three couches surrounding a large flat screen television. To the left were two bedrooms joined by a bathroom, and the right a pull out bed and a bathroom. On the far right side of the living room was a fully stocked bar, that was now completely empty.

The destruction turned the room into a giant pile of trash. The television was smashed, the screen looked as if bullets had been shot to it. One couch was turned over and the other was ripped in half. One was missing cushions, but was still salvageable.

Gerald's movements and noises prompted Johnny to open his eyes. He had passed out behind the bar. Disoriented and still a little drunk, Johnny rose to his feet, only to slip backwards and land on the hardwood floor, knocking over an empty luggage stand and red plastic cups. Righting himself up again, Johnny made his way to the bathroom. He felt an odd chill on the lower half of his body, but ignored it as he marched away. He gently stepped over Helga, since she was still passed out cold on the floor in the front hallway of the suite, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets.

Johnny slowly made his way to the toilet, realizing that he wasn't wearing pants, and promptly began to go. He began to analyze the situation in his mind, wondering what the hell happened last night, when he heard a grunt.

Slowly John turned to face the large NYPD horse that was bucking around in the bathroom. Johnny quickly released a girlish squeal before running out of the bathroom, tripping over the passed out Helga.

Helga sat up, clutching her stomach, "Ow! What the fuck man?" She immediately noticed that he was naked, "Fuck, put on some pants!"

"Helga, don't go in the bathroom! There is a horse in the bathroom!"

"No there's not," Gerald replied from the couch.

"I'll check it out," Helga mumbled as she jumped to her feet. She was half-dressed, her black dress was pulled down so it all bunched up around her waist and showed off her pink bra. She opened the door and peered inside to see a very large brown horse standing beside the bathtub. "Holy shit, there's a horse in there!"

"No way!"

Helga adjusted her dress before walking over to Gerald. She stood beside him, half-smiling, "You okay?"

Gerald held his head in his hands, "No, I am in so much pain."

"WHY IS THERE A HORSE IN THE BATHROOM? IT COULD HAVE KICKED ME!"

"Bro, put on some pants," Helga demanded, "I think it's weird I have to say it twice."

"Pants at a time like this?" he muttered while he picked up a discarded silk robe from the ground.

"Just go wake up Arnold, we'll go get some coffee, and everything will be okay," Helga waved her hand to dismiss Johnny. Johnny quickly began searching the bedrooms, only to see them unoccupied. He ran across the hallway, sliding in his socks and smashing face first into the closed door. Helga laughed a little while Johnny returned to his feet and opened the door.

Arnold wasn't in any of the rooms.

"Guys, Arnold isn't here!"

"What?" they asked simultaneously.

"He's not in any of the rooms. It's like we didn't even touch them, they're still clean."

"Shit!" Gerald massaged his temples, feeling his headache becoming more painful by the second.

"He probably went to get food or something, relax." Helga picked up Gerald's cell phone, dialing his number. A cell phone began ringing on the bar. Johnny laughed and picked it up, jokingly answering, "Hello?"

Helga hung up and tossed Gerald's cell phone back at him. "Let's go downstairs and look-"

There was a faint sound of a child crying.

"What the fuck is that?" Gerald asked.

Helga jumped to her feet and began searching the hotel room with Gerald and Johnny on her heels. Helga opened the small coat closet, only to gasp in surprise as a two-year-old girl looked up at her.

"We stole a kid!" Helga hissed.

"Are you sure there was no one else in here Johnny?" Gerald asked as he picked the little girl up. She continued to cry but Gerald began to gently bounce her, despite the pain he felt radiating over his body.

"Positive, no one else was in the room."

Helga clenched her fists, "Fuck, we don't have time for this. We have get Arnold!"

Gerald stopped bouncing her, "We can't leave a kid in here, there's a _horse _in the bathroom! It could escape and squish her!"

"Fine, she'll come with us until we find her mother. Jesus Christ, you guys. . . and Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"Put on some fucking pants!"

* * *

><p>The three stood in the elevator in silence. Johnny was sitting on the ground, holding the girl steady between his legs as she danced to the elevator music.<p>

Gerald held his head in his hands, "Why can't we remember a goddamn thing about last night?"

"We obviously had a great time! Relax, I've spent many mornings in different places not knowing how I got there. Everything will be okay. We'll meet up with Arnold, exchange the kid, and leave before anyone sees our room."

"That's not even our room!" Gerald reminded her.

"So?" Helga replied as they stepped out onto the lobby. They quickly went outside onto the pool deck, Helga scanning the crowd for Arnold.

"Order me some coffee, I'm gonna go search," Gerald quickly took off in the opposite direction towards the lobby.

Helga and Johnny sat down in silence, both watching the little girl as she drew with crayons on the paper menu. "What are we supposed to do with her?" Johnny asked.

"She's a kid, just give her a doll or something. She'll be fine."

After placing their order and receiving their food, Gerald returned looking even more distraught. "I checked everywhere, the gym, the lobby, the restaurants, the front desk, the bars. He's not anywhere."

"It's alright, okay? Arnold's an adult, he can handle himself. Calm down. Just drink your coffee and let's get going," Helga shoved the cup of coffee into Gerald's face, which caused him to puke onto the ground.

The little girl grimaced as she ate her pancakes.

"Alright, let's just retrace our steps." Helga flipped over an unused napkin and began writing, "We left Johnny's at 11:30, then what?"

"We hit up that new club in Times Square," Johnny laughed, "then got into someone's limo."

"Okay," Helga wrote that down.

"Fuck, I don't even remember the other club!" Gerald gagged again.

"I don't really either." Helga leaned back and held her head, "Shit, I've never been this hungover before."

"I totally blacked out in the limo," Johnny laughed as he bit into his waffle.

"Everyone check your pockets for clues and phones for photos, we gotta have some sort of _something_. . ." Helga's voice trailed off as she dumped her purse onto the table and began sifting through the receipts. She rolled an unfamiliar cell phone in her hands. She didn't own an iPhone 4.

"Guys this isn't my phone-"

She stopped when he heard Johnny gasp at the video he discovered on his BlackBerry. "Jesus H. Christ," he muttered.

Gerald dove from his chair across the table, snatching the phone out of Johnny's hand. "Is it Arnold?"

"Yeah, but uh. . ." Johnny started but Gerald, after seeing a nanosecond of the video, threw it back at John in disgust.

"What?" Helga asked, picking the phone up off the table.

The blurry image replayed on the small screen and Helga covered her mouth with both hands to keep her earth shattering scream in.

"That's what I think it is, right?" Gerald asked, covering his eyes as if that would take the memory away.

"A video of Helga going down on Arnold in the elevator? Oh yeah," John replied as he started the video over again, watching with mild revulsion. "It was taken at 7:02 a.m."

Helga covered her face in her hands, "Oh, good God! I can't believe it! _Mother fucker!_ Why am I such a whore?"

"You're not a whore," John said as he slid his phone across the table again, "That's a whore!"

"Guys, language," Gerald reminded them as he nodded his head in the direction of the little girl. His reminder went unnoticed as he and Helga looked away in disgust at the new photo. "Turn it off!"

"Hehe, Helga, you were best friends with this hooker!" Helga had her arms wrapped around the thin waist of a dirty looking older woman in a red bikini top and neon yellow skirt. Helga was in the middle of leaning in to kiss the woman's cheek when the photo was snapped.

Helga snarled, "Enough of the photos, Johnny!"

"I also have our valet ticket. Looks like we got in at 7."

"Shit, we drove last night?" Helga massaged her temples. Not once in her life had she ever driven drunk._ Oh, God._

Gerald unfurled the papers Helga left on the table, holding up each thing as he announced it. "I have our stolen room key, a poorly drawn set up of street acts in Times Square, a receipt for _Black Hawk's Tattoos and Piercings_-"

Johnny laughed, tipping back in his chair, "No way, who got a tattoo?"

"It says," Gerald squinted to read the tiny print in his sunglasses,"'$45.00, LOWER BACK AND CHEST - DESIGN 2349 IN PINK'. It was printed at 2 a.m." Both boys turned to Helga.

Groaning, Helga stood up and picked her dress up off her back. Gerald released a girlish squeal. "Oh my god!"

"What?" Helga cried in desperation.

"You have the words 'MOVE IT FOOTBALL HEAD' tattooed on your lower back in block lettering. You have a tramp stamp!"

Helga quickly looked down her dress, only to feel another scream bubbling up in her throat. "And I have the words 'I heart the beach' tattooed on my boob._ Godmotherfuckingdamn it!_ This is going to be painful to remove!"

Gerald shook his head back and forth in disappointment. "I honestly don't know what's worse, the tattoos or the blow job."

"Blow job_s_," John corrected, holding up his phone to display another video of Helga and Arnold in a limo. "At least, that's what I _think _is happening. . ." Gerald covered his eyes again, feeling his stomach knot.

Helga fixed her shirt and returned to her seat. "Well, in case you haven't looked in a mirror lately, Geraldo, you have two large diamond earrings."

Gerald hesitantly slid his hand across the side of his face, only to wince when he came in contact with the sore cartilage that now held two large holes. "You didn't think to point it out sooner?"

"I thought you always had them," John replied.

"Okay, I'll worry about this later. We should go to the tattoo place. We have to find Arnold!"

The three hungover friends rose to their feet, Helga and Gerald watching with amusement as Johnny picked up the child.

"What's your name?" he asked in a baby voice.

"Caroline," she replied before sticking her thumb into her mouth.

"Alright, we'll I'll keep you safe today Caroline," Johnny promised as they exited the hotel lobby.

They patiently waited for their car to be returned to them, although Helga had no idea anyone drove a car. She was hoping it was the limo the stole because that at least came with a driver.

"Guys, look!" Gerald pointed to the bronze sign that said FOUR SEASONS tacked on the side of the hotel. Hanging off of it was Arnold's shirt, now ripped to shreds.

"Holy shit," Helga gasped. "That's Arnold's shirt!"

"Oh, no, guys, we have bigger problems," Gerald said. A yellow taxi pulled up in front of them. "What the-?"

"Act cool, just get in," Helga demanded as she slipped the valet guy a five dollar bill.

"Cool, it's like _Taxi_!" Johnny laughed as he opened the door and helped the little girl in.

Gerald whipped around to face Johnny, "This is not cool, Johnny! We stole someone's taxi last night and we have a missing child in our possession! This is not _cool_."

Ten minutes later the group pulled up to a small building one block away from the beginning of Times Square. "Leave the kid," Helga demanded as she opened the window.

Gerald stepped out of the car, "Are you crazy?"

"We'll be gone five minutes," she replied. "The window's cracked, she'll be okay."

_**Saturday, December 31st - 9:00 a.m.**_

"Hello?" Helga called as she opened the door. A small bell jingled above her head, and moments later a very large man appeared in the hallway. He was wearing black pants and a solid black shirt with no sleeves to show off his dozens of tattoos. Most were skulls and crossbones done in different colors, sizes and designs. He had a dragon tattoo coiled around his neck.

"Hey, you guys came back for more!" he laughed, shaking his very large gut.

Helga pulled out the napkin and pen, "No, no, we came for answers."

The man sat down behind his counter, elbows resting on the glass display case showing off various tattoo designs. "Where is everyone else?"

"Who?" Gerald asked.

"You know, the red head and the football face?"

"He was with us last night?"

"Yeah, you guys were all going batshit crazy about some wedding you'd just come from. You wanted to celebrate with tattoos." The man pointed at Gerald, "You and your wife both got piercings."

Gerald blinked slowly, feeling as if his lungs and brain shut off completely. Helga's brows furrowed as she stared at the man she assumed was Black Hawk, "Wait,_ what_?"


	6. 9:01 am to 11:15 am: the search

_ **"I'm in love, alright, with my crazy beautiful life, with the parties, the disasters, with my friends all pretty and plastered." - Crazy Beautiful Life,**_** Ke$ha**

* * *

><p><strong>Twenty-One Forever - Chapter Six<strong>

**_Saturday, December 31st - 9:01 a.m._**

"I'm _married_?_"_

Johnny covered his mouth to stifle his laugh. "Oh, shit."

"To who?"

"Definitely not Phoebe," Helga muttered as her eye traveled around the shop. The walls were covered in black tattoo designs, pictures of people getting tattoos, and on the ceiling was a large black hawk silhouette.

Gerald glared at Helga before flashing off his middle finger.

Black Hawk pointed to the left, "She works down the street at the strip club."

"_Definitely _not Phoebe," Helga announced a little bit louder.

"I will fucking kill you unless you shut up," Gerald hissed. Helga bit back laughter before turning to Johnny and cracking up. Gerald turned back to Black Hawk, "Can you tell me anything else?"

The bald man nodded, smiling, "Yeah, her name's Erin. She kept yelling, 'I'm Mrs. Erin Johannsen, bitches!'"

Gerald covered his mouth, trying to hide the fact that his jaw had been hanging open the entire time. Yeah, he was definitely going to puke again.

"Did we have a kid with us last night?" Johnny asked.

"No. . .no kid. You all walked in here, stumbling around like idiots. You were _really_ fucked up. I thought you guys were on drugs or something. I have never seen people as fucked up as you guys, and I'm a tattoo artist in Times Square!"

Helga saluted him, "Well. . .thanks for all your help, Black Hawk. And one more thing?"

"Yeah," he responded gruffly as he rose to his feet.

"Did you happen to see how we left?"

Black Hawk started laughing hysterically as the memory replayed in his mind. "You guys jacked Justin Beiber's taxi."

**_Saturday, December 31st - 3:37 a.m._**

"Guys, guys, look! It's Justice Beaver!" Johnny exclaimed, words slurred beyond recognition. He continued to squeal like a little girl as he slammed on the windows of the taxi resting in midnight traffic. Disoriented and sore, Erin, Gerald, Arnold and Helga piled in, thinking Johnny had stopped it for them.

But Johnny quickly disappeared in the opposite direction, screaming and telling the taxi to wait for him. No one could hear or understand him.

At first Justin was freaked out, thinking it was crazed fans coming to attack him, but when he noticed the idiot banging on the front couldn't even stand he figured he could cut the drunk assholes a break.

Gerald climbed over the stunned Justin Beiber's lap and rested his head against the window, laughing as Erin settled on his lap. Justin then became squished between the couples as Arnold and Helga sat on his right side. The four adults began to holler and cheer while drinking back more alcohol.

"Here, Justin, drink this!" Helga exclaimed, being the most coherent of the group. She handed him an open bottle of beer.

"I'm only seventeen," he replied, awkwardly trying to shift farther away from the bottle.

"No one will tell, will we? Besides, you're going to your hotel. It won't kill you!"

Justin, against his better instincts, grabbed the beer and chugged half of it in one gulp. He burped after feeling the foam settle in his throat. "Nasty."

"Try this instead!" Erin replied, slipping her bottle of Vodka that was wrapped in a brown paper bag onto his lap. Justin shrugged and took a large gulp.

"Not too much!" Gerald warned, tipping the bottle away from Justin's lips.

"Shit, that burns!"

Helga laughed, "No duh, pop star! It's Vodka!"

"Where are we going?" Erin whispered in Justin's ear. He suddenly felt very fluid, like his movements were in water. He laughed and shook his head, messing up his hair, "My hotel. We're flying to the Hamptons!"

"Sweet! Can we come?" Johnny begged. Helga screamed and looked out the window to see Johnny riding a stolen NYPD horse.

"HELL YEAH!" Justin screamed as the taxi came to a complete stop in front of the Four Seasons. Johnny quickly galloped around the taxi and took the keys from the driver before kicking him out of the car, saying that the valet would take care of it. A valet man quickly took the taxi away, leaving a stunned driver on the ground.

Erin kissed Gerald deeply before saying she had to go to work. Before walking away, Gerald slapped her ass and winked.

After sneaking a horse into the room by taking the service elevator, the four drunk adults and underage pop star headed to the roof. Justin removed his room key and slipped it into the elevator slot, accessing the suite floors. He was feeling very jittery and excited, even more than taking the stage at Madison Square Garden just a few hours ago. His manager let him go "wild" and booked a weekend for him at a Hamptons rental house. He was in desperate need of relaxation, and he felt as if fate was dealing him some solid cards by dropping off four drunks in his lap.

"We're gonna take a helicopter!" Justin sang as Helga passed him another beer. "Don't hurt yourself, Beibs, we've got a long night ahead of us."

**_Saturday, December 31st - 9:30 a.m._**

As the three stepped out into the sunlight, Gerald collapsed against the ground. He began counting on his fingers, "I'm married to a stripper. I can't find my best friend and I corrupted Justin Beiber. This day could not get any worse." Johnny picked Gerald up off the ground and shoved him into the back seat next to Caroline. Helga started the taxi and began driving through Times Square.

She passed a corner, but came to screeching halt when The Naked Cowboy impaled himself onto the hood of the car, jabbing the decal on his stomach. Caroline began screaming and crying at the sudden stop and loud _crash _the man's body made. Gerald tried to comfort her, but it wasn't enough.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" Helga screeched as the man returned to his feet uninjured. She immediately put on her emergency flashers and watched, terrified out of her mind, as other cars whizzed past.

"Hey Helga! Nice wheels!" The man tipped his cowboy hat at her before lowering himself to the window, "I need to warn you, someone's chasing you down."

Gerald continued trying to calm Caroline down instead of paying attention to the almost naked man leaning into the car.

"Am I stoned right now or is this actually happening?" Johnny asked as he held onto the dashboard of the taxi.

The Naked Cowboy continued to strum his guitar, "You guys got in some fucked up shit last night. After the strip club and bar, everything went nuts! _They_ saw us together and came after me."

"Oh my god, this is actually happening," Johnny declared to no one.

The Naked Cowboy glanced into the backseat to see Gerald staring at him with a puzzled expression. Helga was wearing the same one. "Seriously, you guys don't remember anything?"

"No. How the fuck do I know you?" Helga screamed.

"Arnold and I did body shots off you at the strip club! I had your neck, he had your bellybutton!" He laughed, "Then you guys invited me to the wedding."

"Where was the wedding?" Helga asked, knuckles turning white as she clutched the steering wheel.

"A Little Chapel, about ten minutes east of here."

Helga quickly wrote that down on her napkin, mind whirling as she tried to figure this out. She was still too hungover to think this much. "And you were with us the entire night?"

"No, I left after the wedding. You guys wanted tattoos."

She felt like she was interrogating the poor guy. "What time was this at?"

The man shrugged, "The wedding ended around 1:30."

"What bar?" Gerald asked.

"Underground, just a few blocks away," he waved them in the right direction.

"Thanks Naked Cowboy dude," Johnny said as Helga tried to merge back into traffic. Once they were driving away, Johnny smiled, "He was nice, I liked him."

Gerald rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, Helga pulled over into the parking lot of A Little Chapel, trying her hardest not to burst into laughter at the idea of Gerald marrying a stripper here.

**_9:54 a.m._**

"Hello?" Johnny asked as he peeked his head through the door. He was met with a dark hallway adorned in plastic flowers and multiple fake backdrops. "Do you do weddings here?"

A tall, tanned Italian man stepped out from behind the counter at the end of the hall and hugged Johnny. Johnny smiled and hugged the man back, laughing as he received less enthusiastic hugs from Helga and Gerald. The stranger was less than appealing, wearing a stained white tank top, sagging jeans and holding the end of a cigarette in his mouth. His thick black hair was slicked down and he wore sunglasses.

The man seemed deeply offended, speaking with a thick Italian accent, "What's wrong? Do you not remember your old pal Donny?"

"No, I'm sorry, I don't."

Donny wrapped his arm around Gerald's shoulder and squeezed, "Well I could never forget you! You are one sick mother fucker! I have never seen someone so _crazy _before!"

"Me?" Gerald asked incredulously, "Really?"

"Yeah. All of you were nuts! Here," he directed them to a counter, smirking as he pulled out a photo album. Standing on either side of Gerald and Erin was Helga, Johnny, Arnold and The Naked Cowboy.

"Damn, Gerald," Johnny let out a low whistle. "She's hot." Erin was wearing a strapless, short cut pink dress and bright neon pink platform heels. Together they were paired with spray-tanned skin and long, beautifully curved legs. Her red hair fell down her body in curls, stopping around her thin waist. She had sky blue eyes and large pink lips.

"Not the point!" Gerald screamed and shut the book forcefully.

Helga stepped up to the counter, "You do annulments?"

Donny nodded, "It breaks my heart, but I do. I take it your friend wants one, but before we can do anything we need both parties."

"Yeah, we can get her in here. We know where she works."

Gerald returned to the counter, "Do you happen to have her home address? She had to fill out a form or something, right?"

Donny nodded as he rifled through a stack of papers on his desk. Helga quickly wrote down the address on the napkin. "Thank you so much Donny. We'll see you later!"

"Have fun you crazy fuckin' animals!" Donny yelled back.

_**10:12 a.m.**_

The group returned to the taxi, Gerald smiling brightly at Caroline from the window. She jumped up and down and stuck her hand through the crack in the glass, giggling. Helga started the car and waited for Gerald to get her buckled.

"This is fucked up," Gerald moaned and held his head. His ears seemed to be ringing from stress.

Johnny poked Gerald through the glass separating passenger from taxi driver. "Your phone's ringing! It's probably Phoebe!"

"Sh! Everyone shhhh!" Gerald hissed as he pressed 'TALK', even though no one else had been speaking. "Hey, babe, what's up?"

_"You sound really freaked, are you okay?"_

"Uh, yeah, just a little tired from babysitting Helga and Arnold last night. They had a pretty good night."

_"I can only imagine, if those body shots they did earlier were any indication."_

And that's when a rock crushed in the roof of the taxi.

"Holy fucking shit!" Johnny screamed, the noise immediately followed by Caroline crying again.

_"What was that?. . .Is that a baby crying? Is everyone okay?"_

"Yeah, fine, we just gotta go," he shouted, "We're spending the afternoon with Johnny's friends! OkayIloveyoubye." He quickly hung up and jumped out of the taxi, relieved to see that Helga was holding Caroline. She stopped crying, her pale freckled cheeks red and streaked with tears and innocent, sky blue eyes clouded with fear.

Gerald gently patted her light brunette curls, "This kid is going to have so much emotional trauma when she's older."

"We still have to get her home," Johnny whispered.

A voice screamed as another rock flew towards the three, "WE WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Seconds later two large bouncers ran from a car, growling and screaming.

"Shit, shit, Helga!" Gerald screamed before removing Caroline from her arms and shielding her with his body.

"Where is he?" the giant demanded, cracking his knuckles. Helga cowered slightly before straightening.

"I think we're looking for the same guy."

"Where is he?" the man demanded again, removing a gun from his pocket. He quickly cocked it and Johnny screamed.

"HE'S GOT A GUN!"

"I _know_!" Helga screamed before turning to the man, "We don't know! We're out looking for him!"

Donny quickly appeared in the doorway of his chapel, "Get the fuck out of here, scumbags!"

"In a minute!" the other man yelled.

Helga began pleading, "Look, we'll come back here later with him, alright? Is that okay?"

The men seemed satisfied with that answer, "5 o'clock. Be here."

"Got it!" Helga nodded before turning the taxi back on and driving away.

Gerald's phone rang again, and he was about to answer, until Helga glared at him, "Why don't you just let that one go to voicemail," she demanded.

Gerald nodded and silenced his phone, "_Ha ha ha_. That's a fake laugh by the way!"

_**10:30 a.m.**_

"Shh, this is it! Apartment G4," Gerald sighed as Helga knocked. A second later, the door opened to reveal Erin, in all her stripper glory, talking on the phone.

"Thank God, she's with her father. I was freaking out!" She picked Caroline up off the ground, "I missed you sweetie." Her voice suddenly dropped to a more seductive tone, "And I missed _you_." Erin promptly forced her tongue into Gerald's mouth, stunning him for a moment. When he had enough mind to pull back, Erin smiled. "What the hell happened to you guys? I woke up to get you all coffee, and when I came back you were gone!"

"We were hoping you could tell us what happened," Helga smiled.

She then lead the three into the small apartment. Johnny immediately collapsed onto the couch, forcing Helga and Gerald to do the same. Gerald was very tense and anxious to be here. He couldn't imagine what Phoebe would say if she ever found out -

"Dude, relax, she's hot. Be proud of yourself," Johnny whispered.

"Shut the fuck up, man! As pissed as I am for Gerald at _getting married _while he's _dating my best friend_, I can't really blame him. We were fucked out of our minds last night. We can't even remember what happened to Arnold, so really this isn't our fault. I know Gerald would never even look at another girl sober."

Gerald let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

Helga leaned back when Mrs. Johannsen returned, "Listen, Erin. . .it's Erin, right?"

"Very funny, Helga," she teased as she sat down in the chair across from them.

"Right, Erin, do you remember our friend Arnold?"

"Of course! He was the best man at our wedding!"

Helga nodded, "We can't find him and we were wondering if you knew anything."

"Oh my God, that is classic Arnold!" She laughed, "But I haven't seen him since our wedding." Helga nodded and removed the napkin from her purse, realizing she had already written down WEDDING END 1:30.

"Can you tell us anything else?"

"I came to you guys at the hotel after my shift around 6:30 with Caroline and the entire place was a complete wreck. I snuggled up to Gerald," she winked and Gerald bit his lip, "and sent Caroline to bed."

"Great, this really -"

"EVERYBODY FREEZE!" Erin released an ear-shattering scream as Helga, Gerald and Johnny threw their hands into the air. "You're under arrest for stealing a cop's transportation!"

_**11:01 a.m.**_

Helga, Gerald and Johnny reclined in the cold metal chairs of the interrogation room. They had been waiting for five minutes in unnerving silence until two short male cops entered the room. They looked identical with their slim shoulders and petite body frames, but the one of the left had a long, blond mustache. Both removed their aviator sunglasses simultaneously. Helga held back her snicker.

"We picked up a car this morning in the middle of Times Square," the cop on the right began as he removed a note from a file, "'No meter. Here's two bucks.'" Johnny laughed, which earned him a glare from both cops.

"Where is the car?" Helga asked.

"At impound. You'll get it back when you get freed."

It was silent for a minute as Johnny looked around the room. There was a small window near the ceiling with bars on it, a lonely lamp hanging over head, and a two-way mirror on the opposite wall. Not a very exciting place to be. "Why are were here?"

"You stole my horse," the cop on the left said.

"Yeah, about that - " Johnny began.

"Silence!" Mustache Cop yelled. "We're getting you into the court on Monday, after the weekend and New Year's."

"We have a flight to catch at seven!" Gerald protested.

"Well too bad!" he teased.

Gerald rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table.

Helga stared at him, eyes wide, until an idea popped into her head. "I'd be embarrassed if I were you."

"Excuse me?" the cop on the right asked.

Gerald brought his feet back down, crashing the chair onto the floor with a loud _slam! _Helga continued explaining, "I'd be embarrassed that a drunken idiot, like Johnny over there, stole one of New York Police Department's horses. It's be a shame for someone to find out about the tragedy, thus removing all credibility of the force." Helga cocked her head to the side in a threatening manner, "And on New Year's too. . ."

Mustache Cop groaned, "She's right. Look, we'll let you go. . .just as long as I get my horse back by 2 this afternoon."

"Alright," Gerald nodded.

_**11:15 a.m.**_

"That was way easier than expected," Helga laughed as she revved the engine of their "car." Somehow the three ended up in the possession of a yellow 2011 Chevy Camero.

"We're in Bumblebee!" Johnny exclaimed happily, admiring the blue racing stripes through the dashboard.

"Focus, dude. We need to find Arnold! Look around for clues."

Johnny quickly sorted through the glove compartment, only to see insurance and registration forms.

"I found a shoe!" Gerald exclaimed, tossing it into the front. Johnny's nose crinkled in disgust, "It's a men's size seven."

"That's no help," Helga mumbled as she turned the corner, bringing the group onto an unfamiliar road.

"Helga, where are we?" Johnny asked.

She glanced down at the map he had splayed out, "I took a left from the impound lot. I thought I was going the-"

The road suddenly changed from a flat asphalt to a bumpy dirt road. Helga screeched and slammed on the breaks, finally looking at her surroundings. They were in an empty lot between two apartment buildings, clearly miles away from Manhattan.

"Let's think for a minute. Where would he be?" It was silent for a minute as they all tried, and failed, to remember what happened to Arnold.

_Bump! bump!_

"THE TRUNK!" the three screamed simultaneously, Helga quickly removing the keys and fumbling with the lock. "Come on! Open it! Open it!" Gerald begged, leaning over the unopened back.

And that's when a small naked Asian man jumped from the trunk and onto Helga's shoulders. The man began pounding on Helga's back with a large crowbar, screaming and grunting. He hit the back of Helga's legs, beat her entire back and returned to the ground just in time to deliver one harsh strike to Gerald's groin. As Gerald bent over, the man smacked Gerald on the collapsed to the ground and moaned in pain, unable to move.

Helga stood by in shock, only to fall face first into the ground when the man smacked the bar into her chin.

"You gonna fuck on me?" he asked Johnny, twirling his crowbar between his hands.

"No! No! Nobody's gonna fuck on you," Johnny begged, "I'm on your side! I hate Godzilla! I hate him! He destroys cities! _Please! _This isn't your fault. . .I'll find you some pants!"

The man lurched forwards and knocked the crowbar into Johnny's legs before taking off down a side alley. Collapsing against the car, Johnny sat beside Helga.

Gerald held his stomach and tried to crawl over to the two, whining, "I have internal bleeding. Call 911."

Helga rolled her neck, trying to get the numbing pain out of her jaw, "That was some fucked up shit. Who was that guy? He was so mean!"

"Guys, I have a confession to make," Johnny whispered as he covered his eyes with his hands.

Helga looked up from the ground, "What?"

"Last night on the shelves, before we went out, I slipped something in our Tequila."

"What?" Helga shrieked. This wasn't happening. It _couldn't_ be.

"I'm sorry. I fudged up you guys."

"You drugged us?" Gerald hissed.

"No, I didn't drug you. I was told it was ecstasy!"

Helga sat up straighter against the car, "Who told you that?"

"The drug dealer. He seemed like such a good guy."

"Why would you do that?" Gerald asked.

Johnny shifted under Gerald's intense stare, "I wanted us to have a good time. I had no idea that it wasn't ecstasy! There's no side effect of complete memory loss with ecstasy! I should know, I've done it for years."

Helga's ears began ringing as she remembered her Public Safety course she had to take her freshman year at NYU. "Oh, good God! Johnny, you gave us roofies!"

"No I did. . ." Johnny's voice trailed off as the realization donned on him. "Oh. _Shit_."

Gerald lunged forwards, "You gave us roofies! The Date Rape drug!"

"You think I knew that?" Johnny screamed.

Helga intervened, "Let's just calm down!"

"You calm down! He drugged us!" Gerald screamed, slamming his fists down to his sides, clearly fighting his urge to punch Johnny in the face. "Because of you I lost my best friend and married a whore!"

"How dare you? She's a nice lady!"

Gerald was on his feet again, clearly over the pain, "You are such a fucking moron!"

"Your language is offensive!"

"FUCK YOU!" Gerald screamed again, coming closer to Johnny. Helga jumped to her feet and pushed Gerald back, "Just calm down. Okay? At least it's not a stranger drugging us for who knows what."

Gerald sighed, "For all we know, our best friend Arnold is face down in a ditch somewhere with a meth head buttfucking his corpse!"

"That's highly unlikely," Johnny replied.

"It's true!" Gerald screamed.

"No, come on, guys. Let's get our shit together. We're not hungover now," Helga turned to the car, "we just need to go back to the hotel and regroup, maybe get some more coffee and think."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I wish I could say there was a reason I chose Justin Beiber. I don't have one besides the fact that just imagining a drunk Justin Beiber would be hilarious.


	7. 12:00 pm to 12:00 am: the rescue & end

_**"And that's why we're goin' out tonight, ain't gonna tell nobody where. . .at a place nobody can find."- A Place Nobody Can Find, **_**Sam & Dave**

**_"There's one last chance to hold each other tight, we're gonna say goodbye, we're gonna say goodnight, I wish there was more time."- Farewell,_ Eighty Eights  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Twenty-One Forever - Chapter Seven<strong>

_**Saturday, December 31st - 12:00 p.m.**_

The three friends cautiously opened their hotel room door, all secretly terrified that they'd find another Asian man. Once the coast was clear, Helga looked around, "Did we leave the music on?"

Both boys shrugged. _"I will never say never! I will fight till forever! Whenever you knock me down, I will not stay on the ground. . . "_ the piano cut off when the door closed.

Justin whipped around, snarling, "YOU GUYS RUINED MY LIFE!"

"What did we do?" Johnny asked.

Justin flipped his hood and hat off, exposing his forehead, "You drew a dick on my face, for one!"

Helga covered her laugh with a cough.

"You destroyed my house and got me drunk!"

"You gave into peer pressure," Helga shot back. There was no way she was going to let a seventeen-year-old pop star yell at her.

Justin sighed and collapsed back down on the piano bench. The piano had been delivered to the room as a special request from Justin's manager. It was supposed to have arrived after the concert, but since no one was there, they brought it back later. Justin began to mindlessly tap the keys, "I am in so much trouble."

Helga sat beside him, "No one will find out! Look, the maids have definitely seen worse."

Johnny smirked, "All we have to do is get rid of the horse and any evidence of people actually being here and we're fine."

"I keep forgetting about that goddamn horse," Helga muttered.

"Where is it?" Justin asked.

"In the bathroom," Johnny replied.

"Oh, right, I remember now! You rode up to the hotel on it. . . " Justin's voice trailed off as he continued to tap the keys.

"Look, don't worry. We'll clean up what we can, alright? We'll see you later."

Justin nodded and opened the door. "Oh, yeah. . ." he stopped and turned around, "here's your phone, Helga. Someone named Phoebe's called like ten times."

Helga pulled Justin's iPhone out of her purse. He quickly programmed her number in so she could tell him when it was okay to check out. "Peace!" Justin shouted as he shut the door.

"He's such a cute little kid," Johnny said after a moment of silence.

"You creep me out, Johnny, you really do."

**_12:30 p.m._**

Gerald sat down at the piano and began tapping out a basic melody while Helga cleaned up what she could. Johnny was busy mixing roofies into a bag of oats. "I hope you know what you're doing," Gerald warned Johnny.

"I drugged you guys, didn't I? I won't hurt the animal, just make it relaxed enough to walk it through the hotel again."

"What are you adding to the oats?"

"Roofies and pepper."

Helga stopped cleaning, "Why pepper?"

"Horses love pepper. They hate cinnamon."

Gerald rolled his eyes before resuming his song,

_What do horses dream of, _

_when they take a little pony snooze?  
><em>

_Do they dream of munching oats  
><em>

_Or fancy men in polo sports coats?_

_Don't you worry your pretty hairy head,  
><em>

_we're gonna get you back to cops and your cozy horsey bed.  
><em>

_And then were gonna find our best friend Arnold,  
><em>

_and then were gonna give him a best friend hug_

_But if he's been murdered by crystal meth tweekers, _

_well then we're shit out of luck.  
><em>

Suddenly the hotel room's phone began ringing. Panicked, Helga answered. "Yeah?"

"We're in the lobby. My manager found something you're going to want to see."

Five minutes later, Gerald and Helga were crammed into a small cubicle, hovered over an even smaller tv. Johnny was left in the room to take care of the horse.

"We found this on the security tapes from the Hamptons rental," Justin quickly clicked 'play' on the remote, the small screen lighting up with a fuzzy black and white image of the four partying. Justin was already passed out on a couch, covered in empty beer bottles and cups. Arnold was still dancing around to Justin's song 'Baby', laughing as Gerald sang along. "You guys continued to trash my place, then took the helicopter. Arnold was with you the whole time. This was at like, five in the morning." Justin yawned at the mention of the early time.

"That's it?" Helga asked as the tape ended. "Shit."

"You guys should consider yourselves lucky I didn't die of alcohol poisoning!"

"We were drugged with roofies!" Gerald screamed.

"I'm leaving," Justin demanded, "I still need to sleep this off."

The three quickly exited the security room, only to stop short in the doorway. Johnny was walking with the horse through the lobby! Women were screaming while men gawked at the sight.

"It's okay everyone, it's alright!" He yelled, eyes shut tight. "This is my seeing eye horse."

Helga slapped her palm to her forehead before screaming, "You are such an idiot!"

_**3:36 p.m.**_

After having Justin check out of the hotel, Helga and the boys rode around New York in their stolen Camero, wondering where Arnold would be.

The group spent three hours searching tourist places they'd think he would've gone. Helga even asked the NYU school if they'd seen him. There was no such luck. It was like he just disappeared off the face of the Earth.

Helga glared at the radio as a Justin Beiber song played. She turned the radio off in anger and focused back on the road. They were out near the police station again, debating about whether or not to put out a missing person's report. "This is so fucked up!"

"I know. Don't worry, though. Hey, maybe the guy who gave us this car has Arnold," Gerald perked up before tapping Johnny's back, "Check the registratio-"

_Slam! _a large black Cadillac truck slammed into the side of the Camero, crunching it against the side of an abandoned building. Helga screamed until the other car shut off.

A short man dressed in expensive clothes stepped out of the back of the car. He was wearing a large fur coat over his black silk pants. Helga was to terrified to laugh.

"That's the guy from the trunk!" Johnny gasped.

"Get out of the car," he hissed.

Helga bit her lip and watched in awe as the two security guards who threatened them at the chapel pulled them from the broken and smashed in window. "We're coming!" Gerald screamed as they continued to drag them out.

"Why did you just try to kill us?" Helga screamed.

"I want it back!" the man screamed.

"We don't remember what happened last night!" Johnny said, cowering against the car in fear as one of the muscular men stepped forwards.

"Apparently you guys met at Underground last night. You were doing shots and having a grand old time. Then you took his limo."

"That's it? You want your limo back?"

The man shook his head, "No. You know what I want, you assholes!" The three stayed silent. "I want my money back."

"Money?" Johnny asked.

"Yes, _money._ I want my $50,000 back. And then you can have your friend."

"What?" the friends asked as one of the men tapped the car. A muffled shout could be heard.

"Oh my god," Helga gasped. "They have Arnold!"

"LET HIM GO!" Gerald screamed and ran towards the car, but the two bounders pushed him back.

"First, we want to know," the guards walked forwards, "why you'd steal his money?"

"We were drugged last night. We have no recollection of anything," Helga shrugged.

"It's true! I did it!" Johnny laughed. The two guards crossed their arms over their chests, "Why though?"

"Look, we tend to do dumb shit when we're fucked up."

"And if you want to kill us, go right ahead. I don't even care anymore!" Gerald nodded.

Helga smacked Gerald before turning back to the men, "No, no, look, we'll get you your money. I can write you a check now!"

"No check! Cash only!" He snapped. "I'm bored now."

Helga ran towards the car and tried slamming on the windows, trying desperately to get closer to Arnold. The guards shoved her off and helped the evil man into the car.

"You better get the money by 5 o'clock! Meet at the Underground!" the guards yelled before starting the SUV.

The Asian man rolled down his window, "Tooda-loo mother fuckers!"

As soon as the car drove away, Gerald collapsed against Helga's side. "They have Arnold. How the fuck are we going to get $50,000?"

Johnny slung his arm around Gerald's shoulder, "I have $30,000 in the bank from all of parties."

"And I have $10,000 saved up from not taking college loans," Gerald shifted, "I was going to save it for a future with Phoebe-"

"Well, you're already married, so we're good there."

Helga groaned, "Where are we going to get $10,000?" Her first thought was to call Big Bob or Olga. Even if she'd sound like a pathetic wallowing mess, it was to help her beloved. She could push her pride aside for him.

"I know!" Johnny exclaimed as he squeezed his way into the damaged car. Helga and Gerald followed behind, unsure if they should trust him or not.

**_4:06 p.m._**

"What are we doing here?" Gerald asked.

Johnny bounced up and down on his toes, clearly excited about the idea, "I remember the slot machine that's here! Your wife could totally hook us up and get us in!"

Gerald groaned as Helga shoved him forwards. The three stood at the back of the strip club near the employee's entrance. They alley around them wasn't as terrifying since it was still daylight out. Gerald knocked on the door marked TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT.

"What?" a deep voice barked from the other side of the wall.

"I'm, uh. . .I'm here to see my wife," Gerald winced as he said that. "Erin."

The door clicked open and Erin appeared, wearing a black bikini top and leather mini skirt. Johnny stared with his jaw open wide as the group went through the backstage area. He had never seen so many half-dressed and naked girls before.

"Can we use your slot machine?" Helga asked.

"Uh. . .sure," she replied, smiling as Gerald took her hand. Part of him felt terrible about breaking up with her, but a very large part of him knew that he didn't want to marry anyone else but Phoebe.

"Erin, I, uh. . ."

Erin smiled at how anxious Gerald was acting, "Listen, you don't have to say it. This whole thing was stupid."

Gerald let out a sigh of relief, "Thank God. I'm sorry about everything."

"It's okay, really."

Gerald laughed, "I can't believe I married someone I just met."

"Well, you were pretty fucked up. I mean, you got your ears pierced for Christ's sake!"

Gerald laughed and touched his sore ears. That would be one hell of an explanation to Phoebe.

Helga watched in awe as Johnny began tapping random parts of the slot machine. He gently traced his fingers over the plaque declaring it had a 10,000 prize! He kept his palms spread across the metal and then pressed his ears to the side of it, acting like a spy cracking a lock on a safe.

Helga stared at him quizzically, "What are you-?"

"Shhhh," he whispered before pressing his lips to the metal backing. "I'm working."

Helga sat down in the spinning chair in front of the LUCKY 7 Slot Machine, twirling a quarter in between her knuckles. Helga had no idea what Johnny was doing, if he was making love to the machine or what, but when his head appeared at the back of the machine ten minutes later, Helga figured it was good to go.

Johnny flashed a thumbs up and watched in suspense as Helga slipped the quarter into the slot. She pulled the lever and sucked in her breath as the dials spun. The first one landed on a seven. Helga forced herself not to get excited, but when the second one stopped on a seven, Helga squealed.

Johnny nodded, "Just wait," he whispered before tapping his hand against the side. The wheel stopped and clicked on _seven. _

Helga screamed. Thousands of quarters began raining out of the machine. Johnny, Gerald and Helga began dancing around the machine like idiots, giggling with excitement.

_**4:34 p.m.**_

Helga screamed in joy again as Gerald counted the cash. "That's it. It's all here. $50,000."

"Unfuckingbelieveable! Johnny, you're the man!" Helga clapped.

He grinned, "You are too Helga!"

"I think it's safe to say our luck has turned around," Helga sighed happily as she pulled up to the Underground.

Johnny began humming, "_And we're the three best friends that anyone can have! We're the three best friends that anyone can have! We're the three best friends that anyone could have! And we'll never ever ever leave each other!_"

"Silence!" a voice demanded. Johnny clasped a hand over his mouth.

The Underground was actually underground. Upon entering the blacked out building, a staircase lit up and lead into the basement. Inside, the layout was very similar to Johnny's club.

The man was standing in the middle of the dance floor on a large beanbag. A spotlight dropped onto him, revealing the two guards standing beside him. "Where's my money?" he asked.

"First of all, hello. I'm Gerald, nice to meet you. I didn't quite catch your name last night."

"I am Marian Chang."

"Well, Mr. Chang, we were hoping to actually _see _Arnold, before you got your money, just to see he was okay. If that's cool?"

"Yes, Gerald, that is cool," Marian replied. He clapped his hands together and a spotlight flashed into the corner of the room, revealing a man with a bag over his football shaped head.

"Arnold!" they screamed.

"See, he's okay." Gerald nodded and tossed the bag of cash across the dance floor. Marian screamed and ducked out of the way as a bodyguard caught it. He opened the bag and counted it all. "It's here."

"Let him go!" Marian demanded.

Another body guard released Arnold from his hold, undoing the bag over his head and taking the tape off of his mouth.

Helga gasped, "Oh, my god! That's _not_ Arnold!"

"Not my problem!" Marian replied as he rose to his feet.

Gerald stepped closer, "It's. . .Arnie?"

"Thanks for that guys," he smiled as he walked closer to them. Helga stood in shock, feeling her anger get twisted in her throat. She waned to beat that little Marian guy into the ground and throw Arnie away. They still didn't have Arnold! Helga covered her face with her hands to prevent a scream.

"You're a drug dealer?"

Arnie laughed, "Yeah."

Helga threw her hands into the air and stormed out of the building, screaming, "I don't even care right now. We still have to find Arnold!"

"I don't think we're ever going to find him," Gerald sighed and pulled out his cell phone. "Maybe it's time."

**_4:56 p.m._  
><strong>

"Phoebe? It's. . .uh, it's Helga." Helga rocked back and forth on her heels, "We fucked up. The party, the entire night, everything got way out of control. I don't even know how, but we lost Arnold."

"_What_?"

Helga winced as she repeated herself, "We lost Arnold."

_"It's New Year's Eve today, we have to get him home! We're supposed to leave this afternoon! Our flight takes off at seven!"_

"Yeah. . .that's not gonna happen."

Gerald glared at Arnie, "How did Chang get you?"

"Don't you remember? We were all hanging out in Underground, laughing and doing shots."

"We don't remember. Because some dick drug dealer sold Johnny Roofilin and told him it was ecstasy!"

"Rooflin, there you go with that word Roofilin. _Roofilin._ What the hell is a roofilin?"

Gerald covered his face with his hands, "Wow, you are the world's shittiest drug dealer!" Well, what else could Gerald expect from a country bum? Jesus, this was so fucked up. "Rooflin, for your information, is the date rape drug! You gave Johnny roofies!"

Arnie laughed, "Oh, shit! I must have mixed up the bags. My bad Johnny." Johnny shrugged. "My friends and I were saying the other day why the hell do they call it roofies? Why not floories? Because when you take then you're more likely to end up on the floor than the roof." Arnie shrugged, "Or groundies, that's a good one."

"How about rapies?" Johnny offered.

Gerald's mind suddenly started turning and he could begin to feel the fog disappear from his mind. He just needed to be sure, "What did you say?"

"Rapies?" Johnny laughed.

Gerald ignored him, "What did you say before? When you take roofies you're more likely to end up on the floor than. . ." It hit him. Gerald ran forwards and tackled Helga to the ground, "Helga!"

She screamed and dropped the phone.

"Hey, Phoebe, it's Gerald. There's no need to worry, we will be at the airport. Just ignore Helga, she's probably still drunk from last night."

_"Where are you guys?"_

"I just finished booking our flights. See you soon, okay, bye."

Helga held her stomach, "What the fuck, Gerald?"

"I KNOW WHERE ARNOLD IS!" Gerald pulled Helga off the ground and ran towards the car, shoving Johnny and Arnie into the back seat.

"How do you know where he is?" Helga asked.

"Well, Arnie helped me. I mean, it just hit me like _bam! _Remember when we saw his shirt on the sign?"

"Yeah, but I thought he threw that out the window."

"You can't throw stuff out windows in hotels, they're sealed shut!. . .Do you remember that time in fifth grade when we all camped out at Arnold's house to watch the stars?"

"And then we all hid downstairs and locked him on the - !" Helga laughed, "Oh my god!"

"Wait, I don't get it. Where is he?" Johnny asked.

"He's on the roof of the Four Seasons!"

Gerald laughed, remembering that summer night in fifth grade. The entire class had planned it as a surprise, just to see if they could rile Arnold up. He stayed calm the entire time. "That was hilarious! It's not so funny now, since we forgot where he was."

_**5:28 pm**_

"Arnold!" Helga screamed as she tore through the door leading to the roof. She scanned the roof, trying to find that signature blond hair. Johnny and Gerald continued to search, all three screaming his name.

Gerald found him first, hunched near the large heating unit. "Over here!"

The three ran towards him, trying to avoid the patches of frost and ice on the roof.

"Arnold! You're okay! You're okay!"

Arnold was completely dazed, feeling as if this entire situation was unreal. He had just been stranded on a roof for an entire day in the freezing cold with only his thin sports jacket. He needed warmth, _now._ Arnold pulled Gerald into him and hugged him, starting to feel a little better. His teeth were chattering less and the blood slowly began to return to his extremities.

"Oh, Jesus, Arnold!" Helga cried and fell to her knees in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Gerald picked him up, knowing Arnold never would've been able to walk on his own, "Inside. Heat."

Helga nodded and ran downstairs with Johnny. Together the two got hot chocolate, hot water, soup and all the blankets they could hold. They carried them up the stairs and met Gerald halfway down between the staircase and hotel.

Helga wrapped Arnold up in as many blankets as she could then handed him the mug of cocoa.

"What the fuck happened last night?" Arnold asked.

Johnny laughed, "We couldn't remember anything, remember?"

Gerald nodded, "We still don't know all the details."

Arnold narrowed his eyes and leaned in towards Gerald, "Are your ears pierced?"

"Hey, Helga has two tattoos!"

Arnold laughed before sipping his drink again. His mouth was burnt but he felt the hot liquid travel down his body. He definitely felt warmer now. "That doesn't surprise me."

"Oh, can't forget the videos!" Johnny exclaimed, pulling out his cell phone.

"No! Not now," Helga snarled, "not _ever_."

"I'll tell you everything later," Gerald promised. "It's one hell of a story."

Arnold smirked and dove into his bowl of soup, "Can't wait to hear it."

"Then we'll have to discuss our secrecy vows."

"No telling Phoebe or any other living person?" Helga joked.

"_Especially _not Phoebe!"

"Why? What did you do that was so bad?" Arnold asked as he gulped down the end of his soup. He now felt completely comfortable and full, even though he knew later he'd been dying of hunger again.

"Married a whore," Johnny whispered between coughs. Arnold laughed, "Was I your best man?"

"Of course you were."

"I mean, it wasn't such a bad night," Arnold began, "I found stacks of money in my jacket pockets. I think it's like $50,000."

Gerald, Helga and Johnny began cheering, feeling ecstatic that they got to keep some money.

Johnny glanced at his cell, "Dudes, we have half an hour to get you guys through security. There's no way we can make it! We're forty minutes from the airport!"

"So we don't take the plane," Helga's smile grew as the idea blossomed in her mind, "I'll be right back."

She quickly flipped open her phone and scrolled through the recent calls. "Hey, I need a favor. . . I know, I'm cashing in pretty quickly, but chances like this won't ever happen again. Can you please get me a helicopter?. . .Yes, I can do that. I owe you one, dude. You're one sick mother fucker."

Helga hung up, feeling triumphant. "Quick, to the car!"

"Can you walk?" Gerald asked as Arnold rose to his feet. He nodded and stretched before running down the stairs after Helga.

_**6:24 p.m.**_

_"Attention passengers on Flight 8967 to Hillwood, the airport is now on lock down. An unidentified aircraft has been spotted in the area and we are waiting for the confirmations."_

Helga grinned at the sight, all planes grounded and turned off. Granted, they really fucked up the entire airport's schedule, but Helga figured if Justin Beiber was going to put his fame to use, now was the time to do it.

The helicopter landed in the middle of the runway with a frantic Justin Beiber running towards the gates. Police security recognized him and let him pass. The crew radioed all planes and let them know that as soon as the helicopter left it was clear. Johnny was instructed to stay tight and not move from the helicopter.

While the Beibes was running, Helga sneaked Gerald and Arnold off the chopper and into the airport by crawling through a luggage carrier.

"Success," Helga cheered as she emerged into the busy Terminal A Gates 21-30 with Arnold and Gerald on her heels.

"I'll see you later, Pataki. And next time, I'm bringing my own drinks!" Gerald laughed and hugged her.

Helga smiled, "Next time I won't invite Johnny."

Gerald walked towards the gate, smiling brightly as he kissed Phoebe and hugged her.

Helga turned to Arnold and smiled. She had no idea what she had said to him last night and that made her dread this moment. Arnold stepped forward and wrapped his still chilly hands around her waist, laughing, "I distinctly remember you saying how much you loved me," his voice lowered as he whispered into her ear, "and my cock. . ."

Helga winced, feeling the heat burn through her cheeks, "Yeah, it's really, a long story." Arnold laughed and kissed her ear, then her temple, followed by one on her forehead. "I'll be back soon, alright? I start school in ten days. We didn't do anything relating to that at all, so I'll be back even earlier than that. Okay?"

Helga nodded, suddenly feeling a cold emptiness take over her heart. "I'll see you then," her smile suddenly wavered.

"I promise, Helga, I still want a date _my _way." Helga laughed before feeling Arnold's lips press gently against hers, lingering for a moment too long.

Helga finally pulled back, smiling. "See you later, Football Head."

**_11:57 p.m._**

"Only three more minutes 'till New Year's!" Johnny yelled into his microphone as the projector screen flashed more signs of the ball being prepared to drop.

Helga sighed and poured herself a drink, still not trusting Johnny or anyone else to handle it. Johnny had taken her on a shopping trip after the airport, trying to make up for the fact that he drugged her. Or maybe he was trying to make her feel better because she had just said goodbye to Arnold. Johnny bought her a long-sleeved dress that was covered in pink glitter. He also let her buy new dark pink platform heels. Either way, she got a new outfit out of it, not that she really cared.

"I like your tattoos," a voice screamed into her ear over the music, "cause they're pink like your dress."

Helga's heart stopped as she turned around, only to feel it burst with joy. "Arnold!"

He kissed her quickly, arms wrapping tightly around her waist and pulling her as close as possible. He could feel Helga smile between the kiss and it only made his heart beat faster. "What are you doing here?" she screamed.

Arnold grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the elevator, smiling when it opened to reveal no one. He grinned at her, "I just wanted to surprise you."

"But, what about your parents?"

"Gerald talked them into it."

"Did someone else drug me or is this really happening?" Helga asked, laughing as Arnold kissed her neck.

"No drugs, I swear. I had Gerald fill me in on everything while we were waiting for the flight to take off. Justin's helicopter really screwed with the airbase. We were there for three hours."

"Just enough time to hear of the epic tale," Helga joked as the elevator opened on the roof level. "Really? You're going back on a roof?"

"I live in a boarding house and my room is an attic. I don't have time to be afraid," he said before dragging Helga onto the roof. He slipped his jacket over her shoulders then dragged her towards the edge. Helga gasped at the sight - it was the perfect spot to see the ball drop. Thousands of people could be seen crowded into the small area of Times Square and everything was lit up by the flashing neon lights.

"Wow."

Arnold nodded, "Johnny gave me the tip."

"One minute 'till midnight!" speakers from Times Square echoed through the neighborhoods.

Arnold and Helga were silent, eyes still watching the scene around them.

The couple watched in anticipation, hearing the loud shouts of the crowd as they counted down the final seconds. "_Three. . . two. . .one. . ." _Arnold smiled and dipped Helga back, giving her an incredibly long kiss.

And in those first few moments of the new year, everything was perfect. It was like the past twenty-four hours didn't really happen. All that mattered was that kiss and all of the promises it entailed for the year.

Helga eventually pulled back, breathless, "It's going to be one hell of a year."

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> _Stu's Song _is property of Water Tower Music and The Hangover. I just tweaked the lyrics to fit the situation, but do not claim them to be my original idea. _Three Best Friends _belongs to Water Tower Music and The Hangover.


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